


thinking past tomorrow (for the first time)

by youareallmuggles



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - How to Get Away with Murder Fusion, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Violence, alexander as wes, angelica as michaela, burr as asher, catherine as lila, eliza as oliver, htgawm au, jefferson as frank, just to set it all up, king george as griffin, lafayette as nate, laurens as rebecca, madison as laurel, maria as connor, martha as samuel, nonbinary! lafayette, staring:, the first chapter is the most canon-compliant, theodosia as bonnie, washington as keating, you don't need to know anything about htgawm to understand this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareallmuggles/pseuds/youareallmuggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>alexander hamilton wasn't expecting to get caught up in murder, especially not in law school with three fellow law students and a bartender neighbor, but here he was in america, doing just that.<br/>basically a htgawm au<br/>(disclaimer: I do not own htgawm, nor do I own some of the dialogue used. Also, I did not come up with this idea. I saw someone's drawing of it on tumblr and got inspired.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Washington Five

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I do not own htgawm, nor do I own some of the dialogue used. Also, I did not come up with this idea. I saw someone's drawing of it on tumblr and got inspired.

_Whoever decided that flinging toilet paper around a bonfire was a good idea was an idiot, even if they themselves were a student of the law. But putting intelligence aside, the bonfire was in full swing: red solo cups full of cheep liquor and beer were being drunk from, selfies were being taken on iPhones, a murder was being committed. A cheerleader spun in the air before falling freely into the arms of testosterone-driven football players. The marching band was trying in vain to play loud enough that the people surrounding them could hear the melodies they’ve been playing since September. A body was lying dead on hardwood, her head bashed in. The air reeked of smoke from the raging fire and the kids breathe smelled sickly sweet. Only a few were smart enough to bring minty fresh gum along to disguise the reeking scent of alcohol so their partner, whether a one-night stand or a significant other, wouldn’t gag up whatever they had consumed that day.Blood pooled around the corpses head, a trophy with a key piece missing on the ground next to her. Outside, the atmosphere was a bright canary. Inside, an oppositional black._

_“It has been one tough year for our school, but that all ends this Saturday! Because that’s when this team, my warriors, are gonna burn those pansy-ass OHIO players right to the ground!”_

_The crowds already high-sprits raised impossibly higher with the declaration from the football coach.Someone threw a lit torch onto another pile of possessions, one with a scarecrow dressed in the Ohio football teams uniform, and the crowd cheered as it went up in multi-colored flames. The dancers were driven by a beat that pulsed from their heart, moving along to their own individual song. The marching band didn’t relent._

_If you pulled your attention off of the partying students and listened for any signs of movement, you would’ve been lead directly to the woods behind the campus, dark green and muddy brown in color and vast in size. The sloping hills were great places to lie undercover and the dry, dead brush were perfect fuel for another fire that might take place later that night._

_A boy ran, a plain backpack on his shoulder, through a brick tunnel that cut it’s way through one of the hills. A group of three, soon to be four, law students were gathered at the bottom of the hill, hidden by thick trees._

_“And stop acting like a little bitch baby,” a girl hissed, hands stuffed in the pockets of her woolen coat. The bitch baby in question grit her teeth._

_“Do not tell me how to feel right now!” she shot back. The boy ran in._

_“Hey!” he said, maybe a little too loudly. The bitch baby yelped, “Sorry it took so long.”_

_He reached into the bag and pulled something out, “I went back for this.”_

_“Now you- you take that back right now!” the bitch baby said, pointing at the thing, flicking her hair back from her face. The boy made a face._

_“No. It’s smart,” said the boy on the ground, gone unnoticed until now. His face was barely visible through his cream turtleneck. He stood up as he spoke, “Commonwealth v. Knox.A case the prosecution should’ve won but lost because there was no murder weapon.”_

_He walked towards the boy carrying the backpack and stood in front of him. The girl with the woolen coat raised an eyebrow._

_“So what are you saying?”_

_“We clean it and we put it back. Hide it in plain sight,” Turtleneck hesitated, cracking his knuckles through his gloves, “After we bury the body.”_

_“No, absolutely not,” the bitch baby whispered. The girl with the woolen coat backed away._

_“Yeah, I-I-I’m with Angelica-“_

_Turtleneck moved forward, “No, Maria, think-“_

_“The trophy we need, yeah, but the body stays where it is,” Maria said._

_“No, the body is what gets us caught,” Turtleneck argued._

_“You are not thinking straight!” Angelica said. Turtleneck thew open his arms._

_“What do you suggest?!”_

_Angelica’s eyes were crazed, “Something that doesn’t involved carrying a body across campus on the busiest night of the year!”_

_“She’s right, James,” Maria said, “Even if we get it out of the house, unseen, the ground is frozen!”_

_“We have all night to dig!”_

_“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”_

_“This is murder! None of us know what we’re talking about!”_

_Angelica groaned, “Please, just yell that a little louder-“_

_“Why should we even be doing this? This isn’t our fault!” Maria said, pacing, “It’s all his fault.”_

_“There’s no way we’re getting the damn body from inside that house. There’s cops! There’s witnesses!” Angelica hissed._

_“Hey,” the boy with the backpack tried, turning towards Angelica. She kept going._

_“Honestly, you’re all dumber than I thought if you think we should go back there,” she said. Maria pulled her hands out of her pockets, standing next to Angelica._

_“Look, I’m agreeing with you, going back is an idiotic-“_

_James wrapped his arms around himself, most likely for comfort, his voice soft, “You two need to man up and think because we’re going to jail and it’s all because of him-“_

_“Shut up! Shut up!” Backpack Boy shouted. Everyone froze, “It’s two against two. We have no other choice. We flip a coin.”_

_Angelica scoffed, “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”_

_“I’m not letting a frigging coin decide whether or not I go to jail tonight!” Maria yelled. Backpack Boy shushed her._

_“We don’t have time to fight! We need to make a decision and commit to it, so if someone has a better idea, say it now!”_

_Radio silence. Backpack Boy let out a sigh._

_“Heads, we get the body. Tails we leave it where it is,” he said, pulling a quarter out of his back pocket, “Okay?”_

_No response._

_Backpack Boy threw the silver coin into the air. All four heads looked up at it flipping, at the metal shining in the moonlight. All four brains were worried._

_What if it’s heads?_

_What if it’s tails?_

_The coin started to fall._

_—————_

_(Three Months Earlier)_

Alexander Hamilton wasn’t just nervous about Mr. Washington’s class. No, he was dreading it.

As he biked to her building, he heard rumors about his hands-on teaching strategy and unforgiving nature. Surely, Alexander and his big mouth would find a way to screw up his reputation with his teachers and if Mr. Washington was as awful as the rumors said he was, Alexander would screw it up with him twice as fast as any of the other professors. Hopefully none of them knew why he was registered so late because punching the bursar probably wouldn’t settle well with them.

Ha, there was no probably about it! Alexander couldn’t afford to get expelled from a college, not if he had any chance of succeeding in America.

Alexander parked his bike at the rake, making sure it was secure. He didn’t trust the kids at the college not to steal it.

Just the entry-way to the building was intimidating. There were no hydrangeas surrounding the wooden doors or colorful ‘Welcome!’ banners to make the huge plaque reading ‘Kings College Law School’ less intimidating and more..friendly. Right away, Alexander felt out of place in the midst of imported marble and sleek walkways. This was a place for the wealthy, and Alexander was anything _but_ wealthy.

He walked straight inside, not bothering to look at the cork boards in the hallways. Alexander couldn’t be late to his first class and besides, the cork boards weren’t going anywhere. He could take the time after Mr. Washington’s class to look at them.

Two girl, both dressed in slacks and sweaters, were eyeing the missing posters on the board.

Alexander’s eyes were blown wide when he saw how many people were crowded in the hall. As he walked down the carpeted steps to the front of the room, where there were still empty seats, he caught bits and pieces of conversation.

“I threw up four times this morning worried he’s gonna call on me,” a blonde girl whispered to a person behind her.

On the other end of the spectrum, a boy that radiated money gloated to the people surrounded him, “Yeah, he’s a ballbuster, sure, but I spent my summer interning for chief justice Roberts, so I know how to handle a big personality.”

Alexander already felt a loathing for him.

A man in a tweed suit was standing in on the stairs, a notepad in hand, “Dershowitz has the upper hand in the academic world, but Washington’s clearly the better defense attorney.”

Two spots were still open in the front row, one of the end and another by a girl studying a packet. He choose the one next to the girl. Who knows, maybe he’ll make a friend.

“Here we go!” he chirped, sitting down. The girl didn’t look up, or tell him to shut up, so he kept on going, “I’m not usually a first-row kind of guy, but I promised myself I wouldn’t hide in the back of the class.”

The girl held up a hand, a glistening ring on her ring finger, without looking up, “I’m engaged.”

Alexander startled, “Oh. Oh, no. I-I wasn’t hitting on you. Besides I’m-“

“Seats are assigned. There’s a chart over there,” she still didn’t look up as she pointed to the desk at the front of the room, one single sheet of paper in the middle of it. Alexander hurried over.

“Nice try, player,” said a girl. Alexander looked at her and was momentarily taken-aback by how stunning she was. Her dark hair was curled, left to hang around her oval face. She has just as tall as Alexander, and upon looking down at her open-toed flats, she wasn’t wearing heels to give her some extra height. A smirk was etched on her face. He blushed.

“No, I wasn’t trying anything-“

“You should find your seat. You don’t want to be a sitting duck when the shooter gets here,” she lowered her voice at the end and brushed past Alexander. He followed her, after glancing at the chart and taking note of where he was supposed to sit.

“What?”

The girl let out a short laugh, “Oh, my god. You have no idea what you just walked into.”

The door banged open and a hush fell over the classroom, all that was heard was the sound of footsteps leading to the center of the room.

“Good morning,” a man’s voice boomed out. Alexander, among others, scrambled to his seat, stepping over legs and feet, “I don’t know what terrible things you’ve done in your life up to this point, but clearly your karma’s out of balance to get assigned to my class.”

A nervous laugh. The man picked up a piece of chalk and began writing on the green board.

“I’m Professor George Washington, and this is criminal law 100. Or, as I prefer to call it.”

He finished writing with a flourish, turned around, and walked around his desk to stand only a few feet away from the front row of the class. Alexander was most surprised by the man’s eyebrows, then his solemn expression. The lines in his face matched his expression. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing from the crease between his eyebrows and the natural frown to his lips. Alexander could see how people saw Washington as rude or condescending or whatever.

“How to get away with murder.”

—————

“Unlike many of my colleagues, I will not be teaching you how to study the law or theorize about it, but rather how to practice it in a courtroom, like a real lawyer,” he paused to let the information sink in, “Now to our first case study, the aspirin assassin. Tell us the facts,” he walked back over to his desk and looked at the seating chart, “Maria Reynolds.”

The gorgeous girl from earlier stood up, a laptop held in the crook of her elbow. Who was the aspirin assassin?, “The Commonwealth v. Gina Sadowski was a case of attempted murder. The defendant, Ms. Sadowski, worked as the second assistant to the victim, Arthur Kaufman, the CEO of an advertising agency. She was not only his assistant, she was also his mistress,” her smile was sly as she finished her last sentence.

Washington motioned for her to sit down.

Alexander glanced over at the laptop of the girl sitting next to him. A Word doc with notes about this ‘Commonwealth v. Gina Sadowski’ thing was pulled up on the screen. Looking over at his other neighbors computer, he could see the same thing. It all became clear to Alexander Hamilton. This was an assignment that somehow, he had missed.

“What happened after Mr. Kaufman’s wife of 27 years, Agnes, found out about the affair? You,” he pointed at the rich dude who was bragging about how he could handle a ‘big personality’.

“He ended the relationship and transferred her to the accounting department,” he answered, tucking his pen into the pocket of his suit jacket, “That’s when she allegedly switched one of his blood-pressure pills for an aspirin, which she knew he was allergic to.” He took a seat on his own.

“What occurred when Mr. Kaufman ingested the aspirin? Anyone?” A sea of hands were flung in the air. The girl from before, the one with a packet of notes that Alexander were now sure were the notes about this case and a giant engagement ring, stood up.

“Mr. Kaufman went into anaphylactic shock. His throat swelled and his brain was deprived of oxygen for 7 minutes before his first assistant was able to resuscitate him. Angelica Schuyler,” she finished, hands folded in front of her pinkish skirt.

“What was the mens rea? Alexander Hamilton?”

Oh shit.

He hastily stood up, “The mens rea? Right-“

Washington cut him off, “Day 1 and you’re unprepared?”

“..No”

A glare.

“Well, um, yes, but I didn’t know there was anything to prepare-“ he started.

“I emailed the assignment to the entire class two days ago,” Washington interrupted, drumming his fingers along his thigh. Alexander gulped.

“Oh. I didn’t get that,” he said meekly.

Washington raised a thick eyebrow, “Mr. Hamilton, as a defense attorney, I spend most of my time around professional liars, so you have to work really hard to fool me.”

“I only got accepted here two days ago on a scholarship,” Alexander tried.

“That is no excuse for not receiving my email,” Washington said.

“I had an incident with the bursar,” he said, “Which might explain why I didn’t get accepted until two days ago.”

Washington’s expression was pinched, “Let me help you out. ‘Actus reus’ means ‘guilty act’: the poisoning of Mr. Kaufman with an aspirin. Whereas ‘mens rea’ means ‘guilty mind’. So what was Ms. Sadowski’s mens rea? Think, Mr. Hamilton. It’s nothing more than common sense.”

Alexander was humiliated. He could feel his pulse racing, heart beating too fast, stomach twisting into knots. His brain was going blank, forgetting all the knowledge he had been collecting for 19 years of his human existence. Washington was staring him down, his brown eyes making steady contact. Alexander couldn’t think.

“To kill,” a wobbly voice said. Alexander was momentarily relieved, than even more humiliated. To kill. The obvious motive for any murder investigation. Washington turned his attention away from Alexander and to the general crowd.

“Will the individual who just spoke please stand and repeat the answer?”

A bookish boy, covered in a green turtleneck and well-tailored skinny jeans, stood, his gaze directed at his feet, “The mens rea, also referred to as ‘intent’, was to kill Mr. Kaufman.”

“That’s right. Your name?”

“James Madison,” the boy answered and sniffed. Alexander felt sorry for the boy.

Washington’s voice was sharp and level, “Never take a learning opportunity away from another student, no matter how smart you need everyone to think you are.”

James nodded and quickly sat down, all his attention focused on his hands folded in his lap. Alexander looked away.

“All right, before we move on, are there any other questions? Ms. Reynolds?”

Maria stood again, “I noticed that the verdict wasn’t listed here. So I guess my question is, did she do it?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

A wave of confusion went across the room, splashing every student. Washington straightened.

“I lied. This isn’t a past case but one I took last week after Gina fired her previous lawyer. Everyone follow me.”

—————

It was amazing how many people could fit into Washington’s office/home.

Gina Sadowski was seated in a chair, hands folded neatly in her lap, dressed in her Sunday best.

“This one day, I walked into his office when I just screamed, real loud, ‘cause Arthur was standing there behind the door. I thought he was gonna be pissed at me, yell, but instead he just started laughing. So then I started laughing and, well, um, that’s when he kissed me for the first time. Yeah, I became that girl.”

The rich boy leaned towards James Madison, “Something tells me she’s always been that girl.”

James Madison refused to gift him with a response, opting instead to stare straight ahead and to continue to take notes.

“It was on my last day working for him when I came back from lunch and saw the paramedics, when I heard that Arthur was hurt. I loved him. I know that’s hard to believe, but I loved him. Why the hell would I want to hurt him?!” Gina’s voice was breaking halfway through her testimony, tears pooling in her eyes. James Madison didn’t make eye contact.

However, he did make eye contact more than once with the TA, who kept making ‘bedroom eyes’ at James. The TA’s eyes flicked up and down James’ lumpy frame, the only form-fitting piece on him where his jeans. But still, the sweater covered his ass. There really was nothing for the TA to keep looking at.

There was too much for James to look at on the TA. He seemed to be intent on dressing outlandishly well, snug slacks covering long legs and an impossible tight fuchsia vest over a button-down. Later, James would deny checking out the TA’s ass when he turned around to make conversation with the woman in the corner, the one with the modern haircut but vintage dress. And later, the TA might admit to picking out an especially tight pair of slacks for the next day, knowing at he’ll make James flustered. What could he say, watching James naw on his lower lip and avoid looking in his eyes kept him satisfied.

—————

Washington stood at the front of the office, arms behind him. Gina had left, escorted to the door by a short woman with her hair cut right underneath her square jaw.

“The trial begins in two days, so tomorrow, each of you have one minute to present the best defense for this case. See if you can beat my current plan. Mr. Hamilton?” he asked. Alexander stood straight, back rigid and limbs tense.

“Yes?”

“You will go last, an unenviable position seeing that no two students will be allowed to present the same idea,” Washington continued. Alexander relaxed in his seat, slumping his shoulders.

“Use the resources in this office, Gina’s discover file, my library, the people who know me even better than myself,” he gestured towards a man with an interesting beard and incredibly curly, thick hair, and the woman who had escorted Gina out. The man with the amazing hair stepped forward, a condescending smirk already on his face. His eyes surveyed the crowd, resting a bit too long on James Madison. Alexander swore he saw James blush under his turtleneck.

“Name’s Jefferson, and unlike every teacher you’ve had, I do believe there are stupid questions. So if you got ‘em, please see my lovely colleague Theodosia.”

The woman -Theodosia- has a natural smile to her face, “Or, better, you could come to us with answers. We’ll like you much better that way.”

Alexander took a mental note of that in his head.

As the students began to pack up their belongings, Washington cleared his throat.

“And one more thing. Every year I choose four students to come work for me. This assignment is used to help me decide who that is. This top student gets this,” Jefferson held up a gold trophy, the metal glistening. The eyes of the majority of the students lit up.

_A boy ran, a plain backpack on his shoulder, through a brick tunnel that cut it’s way through one of the hills._

“Consider this your immunity idol.”

_“You-You take that back right now!”_

“The winner can turn this in at any point to get out of an exam. Now go. Find a defense that will free out client.”

————

Alexander was pacing through his cheap apartment, his notebook open on his mattress that he called a bed, various law books next to that. He ran a hand through his long hair, letting out a sigh. Gina was guilty and there was no chance in proving her not guilty. All the evidence lead to her.

 _Stop it Alexander,_ he told himself. If he wanted to maintain his relationship with Washington, which was already strained, he had to prove Gina not guilty, no matter how hard it’ll be.

He sat on the ground, trying to ignore the blaring music coming from the apartment next to his. Dammit, this place really did have thin walls.

_Focus._

If he had any chance at succeeding tomorrow without damaging his reputation in the class any more, he didn’t have time to waste. Alexander wrapped his arms around his head, effectively cutting off most of the music. There, now he could think more clearly than before.

“The first assistant saw Gina with an aspirin that morning,” he muttered to himself, “Forensics found aspirin residue on the plate.”

Anyone else could’ve put the aspirin there. It didn’t have to be Gina. But who else was at the scene of the murder? Gina didn’t testify to anyone else being there, so there was no use to speculating someone else’s presence. Find something else.

“She was warned about the allergy first day on the job…which means we should argue…we should argue…” he let his words trail off. He rubbed on hand down his face. What could they argue?

“Which means we should argue…”

The music.

“We should argue…we should argue…”

The bass kicked in through the hardwood floor of Alexander’s apartment, filling him from his ass on up. He couldn’t think.

Trying to shut up the part of his mind telling him that he was wasting his time, that there was no time to spare if he was going to think of enough defenses to not be put on the spot tomorrow, that he shouldn’t be knocking on his neighbors door to tell them to _turn down their goddamn music-_

“Can I help you?”

Alexander looked up to see only the face of a boy peering through a small gap in the door. His immediate reaction was that the boys face was covered in adorable freckles, especially around his nose. In fact, Alexander would’ve called the boy adorable, what with his wide eyes and soft lips, if those same eyes were not lined with eyeliner and had he not have a piercing through his nose and lip. The boy narrowed those eyes, showing distrust.

“Hi. Hamilton. Uh, I mean Alexander Hamilton,” he stuttered. The boy said nothing.

“I was, uh, wondering if you could turn down your music. I’m preparing for this thing for law school-“

The boy shook his head, “No.”

“What?”

“The last guy who living in your apartment was a law student. I put up with his sleep-talking, his nightmares, his nervous breakdown, no, you can _deal_ with this.”

And with that, Alexander’s new next-door-neighbor slammed the door in his face. The music turned up louder.

Alexander trudged to his apartment, collapsing on his bed, face up to look and the peeling paint on the ceiling. His notebook was still open. The pages were blank.

_Why did the walls have to be so thin?_

Alexander sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he removed his hands, the scratches on the wall caught his attention for the first time. Thin indents in the beige plaster. Carefully, he placed his fingers on the them, dragged his hand down. Those were fingernail marks.

_“I put up with his sleep-talking, his nightmares, his nervous breakdown”_

He let his hand fall to the edge of the mattress.

_A boy ran, a plain backpack on his shoulder, through a brick tunnel that cut it’s way through one of the hills._

Who had lived here before him?

_A cheerleader spun in the air before falling freely into the arms of testosterone-driven football players._

What made him do this?

_“And stop acting like a little bitch baby,”_

Oh, God, will this happen to him?

_The coin started to fall._

_—————_

_Maria grunted, rolling the rug on more time. Madison was sitting back on his knees, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face. Angelica shot him a glare from her perch on Washington’s desk._

_“Look, John, I know you’ve got a lot of practice getting on your knees for Jefferson, but now is not the time to be doing nothing!”_

_A beat, “It’s James.”_

_Angelica let out a shrill laugh, “He’s not even denying it!”_

_“Angelica,” Maria hissed, hair tied up in a bun, “Stop it!”_

_“Yeah, if you’re going to keep complaining about me not doing any work, you could help us,” Madison said, shuffling over to Maria. Angelica stood up._

_“No, no, no. I’m not getting involved in this!”_

_“You are involved in this!”_

_“I don’t want to do anything that involves the body, so when I’m called to testify, I can say that I had no part in this,” Angelica said, crossing her arms and turning her back to the rug. Another grunt from Maria._

_“I can’t do this all on my own,” she said, adjusting her position on the ground. Madison shifted towards the end of the rug. Another grunt, this time from the two of them._

_Alexander hurried into the room, carrying the trophy in one hand, a paper towel and a plastic bag in the other. He set down the trophy._

_“I wiped the sink down with bleach after I washed it,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “Now what?”_

_Madison stood up and grabbed the trophy, setting it on the shelf, “We put it back where it was before.”_

_“Angelica,” Madison said._

_“No, stop pestering me-“_

_“I just want you to move your damn feet!” Madison yelled. Maria whipped her head towards him._

_“Be a little louder, why don’t you? Just call the cops yourself-“_

_Alexander’s eyes were wide, “Shut up! Let’s get the hell out of here.”_

_With the three of them to continue to do the manual labor, they finished rolling the body in the rug. Squatting down, they attempted to pick it up, only to drop it on the floor again. Madison wiped more sweat off his forehead. Maria shot a glare at Angelica who huffed._

_“Fine,” she said, stalking over._

_Madison grunted, Angelica barely did any work, Alexander bit his cheek, and Maria stumbled but the four of them hoisted the covered corpse. They all staggered about, crashing into a wall as they did so._

_“Over here,” Angelica breathed, finally leading the group. They carried the body out of Washington’s office and to the front door, Madison opening it, before stepping out into the crisp air, still smelling of smoke._

_“This car one of yours?”_

_Maria and Alexander froze on the threshold, the rug definitely in their hands. The pause was only for a few seconds before they set down the rug, all four of them leaving the house, standing on the porch. The officer walked towards them. Maria wished she didn’t have her hair in a bun, otherwise she might’ve been able to charm their way out of the situation._

_“It’s my car, sir,” she said, putting as much sugar as she could into her voice. The officer seemed unaffected._

_“You’re blocking the sidewalk,” he pointed back at the black car, sure enough parked too far down the driveway. Maria swallowed._

_“Oh, uh, right, I can-I can move it right now,” she reached into her pocket to pull out her keys. Maria walked down the steps, keeping her gaze down. The officer looked above her._

_“This that law professor’s office?” he asked. Maria froze._

_It was Angelica that spoke first, “Yes. Professor Washington. We’re his law students, but he’s out of town and told us to take this old rug to the bonfire.”_

_The officer folded his arms, “He asked you to go into his house and burn a rug for him?”_

_“It sounds weird, I know,” Angelica smiled, “Why don’t I give him a call so he can explain to you herself?”_

_Madison gave her a look and touched her upper arm, “Uh, it’s a little late to cal her, don’t you think?”_

_Angelica kept her smile, even went so far to give a little giggle, and let her eyes glare at Madison, “The nice officer here thinks we’re burgling our Professor’s house. Let’s clear this whole thing up.”_

_“Right,” Madison mumbled._

_Angelica pulled out her phone and unlocked it, “I mean, it is a little late,” she pretended to check the time, then let a hand rake down her face, “Oh, God, and he had to go to his mother’s funeral today. But maybe he’s not asleep yet.”_

_She opened the ‘Phone’ app right as a crash, which sounded an awful lot like glass shattering, was heard from behind them. The officer whipped around just in time to take a step back from the group of college students, half of the shirtless, running across the lawn._

_“This’ll burn good!” one of them hollered. Another crash. The officer waved a hand at Angelica, already walking down the drive way._

_“It’s fine, just-dammit, be safe, okay? There’s a ton of crazies out tonight.”_

_And with that, the officer hurried away, chasing the students down the street. Angelica tilted her head at Madison, who was openly staring at her in shock. She let her face relax to a more neutral expression._

_Maria turned around slowly, face redder than the blush she had dusted on her cheeks, “Where the hell has that girl been all night?”_

_Angelica frowned._

—————

Angelica Schuyler was first, as always.

First born, first to be literate in her kindergarten class, first girl to be at the stop in every single on of her classes. And now she was able to present her case first to Professor Washington, and her case would surely get her put on that little ‘Washington Five’ thing he had going on. Angelica would be the first one in that little group to get that trophy, to get an internship, to succeed. She certainly dressed the part, and was meticulous in her erasing of anything that resembled anything of a lower class than she was born into. The application of her makeup was flawless, the color scheme of her outfits always went together, her hair was always styled back and away from her face, yet very classy. Unlike Maria Reynolds, who was obviously more promiscuous than anyone else in their class and from a lower class. Angelica could beat a girl like Maria Reynolds any day.

So when Professor Washington told Angelica to stand up and give her case, she answered with a gracious smile and a well-memorized speech that was exactly one minute.

“We should offer the jury another suspect altogether: Mr Kaufman’s wife, Agnes. She was angry about the affair, had access to his office, and knew what aspirin looked like his blood-pressure pill. So what better way to get revenge than to kill your cheating husband and pin it on his mistress?”

The timer buzzed and Angelica prepared to take her seat. Professor Washington motioned for her to sit down.

“Take a seat, Ms. Schuyler. You’ve moved on to the next round.”

Angelica tossed her head.

First to move on.

—————

 

“Who’s next?”

Every hand shot up, except for that boy who was late to enroll for whatever reason, and Aaron Burr angled his position in his seat so Professor Washington’s eyes would be drawn to him. It worked.

Burr buttoned his Burberry suit jacket as he stood up, eyes flicking to the trophy before landing on Theodosia. Alexander looked down at his notebook, looking through his possible arguments. Already one, Angelica’s, was crossed out.

“It all comes down to a simple piece of evidence. The doctor ‘claims’ he ran Mr. Kaufman’s blood work too late to find any aspirin in his blood. Do we really trust this doctor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury? I think not, I think not!”

Another argument gone.

The sniffly boy, James Madison, kept looking between his hands and Jefferson.

“A statistical breakdown of the jury pool shows 80% of them come from a low socioeconomic class…”

 _Dammit,_ Alexander thought. That was his most fleshed-out argument.

“Yes, Gina put the pill on his desk, but did she have the intent to kill? OR did she simply want to give him a scare?” Maria questioned.

“Our client mistook the aspirin as his blood-pressure medication,” a woman drawled.

A chubby boy with wire-rimmed glasses was next, reading his argument off his notepad, “The issues at play are complicated and in need of more extensive research.”

“So, without a witness to assure that, um,” the blonde girl from the day before stammered, “Um, where’s Gina? We d-don’t know where Gina was!”

“Mr. Hamilton?”

Alexander’s face felt hot, a heat creeping up from his chest to his ears. Only one argument left, and one that was almost entirely non-probably and farfetched. Washington would probably not accept it, which meant that the townspeople back in St. Croix donated everything in their pockets for nothing. Oh, God, Alexander Hamilton was a failure to let down all those people who pooled money for his education, which he was incapable of excelling at seeing as-

“Mr. Hamilton? We haven’t got all day.”

He stumbled up and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

“So, the way I see it is, um, we say it was self-dense,” Maria snickered one row down, which only made Alexander talk even fast. Get it over with, “And we do that because, well, Gina was suffering from Stockholm syndrome, which is actually quite common in assistants with demanding bosses. The affair was just one example of how far Mr. Kaufman’s brainwashing of Gina went. He made her fall in love with him. So in this way, her poisoning him was an act of self-defense.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“And I’ll just go stand over there,” Alexander closed his notebook. Washington held up a hand.

“No. Sit.”

James Madison looked over at him with disbelief in his eyes from his spot in the section next to him. Aaron Burr scoffed. Angelica Schuyler just kept staring at the trophy. Maria Reynolds raised her perfectly-arched eyebrows. Alexander Hamilton plopped down.

“Congratulations to those who managed to keep your seat,” Washington continued, “That said, none of you beat my approach, which goes as follows.”

He picked up another piece of chalk from a glass jar on the side of his desk and walked around to the boards. Alexander hurriedly opened back up his notebook to take notes.

“Step 1, discredit the witnesses. Step 2, introduce a new suspect. That person is Mr. Kaufman’s jealous business partner, Lionel Bryant. Step 3, we bury the evidence,” he stopped writing and turned around to survey the class, “We throw so much information at the jury that they walk into the deliberation room with one overwhelming feeling: _doubt._ And that’s how you get away with murder. See you in the courthouse at 9:00. _”_

Angelica stood up, “Oh, um, Professor Washington! We have torts at 9:00 tomorrow, then property at 11:00, so I’m not sure-“

“The way you’re whining right now makes me believe you think I’m your mother,” Washington said, frowning, “Ms. Schuyler. Show up tomorrow or drop out of the competition. It’s that simple.”

He walked out of the hall, the wooden doors slamming behind him. Angelica was frozen in place, stunned. Maria pushed past her on her way out, tossing her a smirk.

—————

“I was his first assistant for 21 years, so to see him on his office floor like that, it was so awful. He wasn’t breathing. And his skin kept getting more and more blue,” Ms. Tanner cast her eyes to the floor, voice breaking, “I’m sorry, Agnes. I tried everything.”

“You did everything you could, Ms. Tanner,” the prosecutor said, giving Ms. Tanner a small smile. He headed back to his seat.

“We just got screwed,” Burr whispered to Maria, “Not in a good way.”

Washington got on his feet, a piece of paper Theodosia handed to her in his hands, “You don’t like Gina, do you? You would yell at her, calling her ‘gold digger’, ‘moron’, ‘trailer trash’?”

Ms. Tanner slowly shook her head, “No, that’s a-“

The doors banged open and Angelica Schuyler hurried in, pumps clacking against the floor. Every eye turned to her, but she didn’t seem flustered. Instead, she smiled and gestured for Washington to come over to her. Maria couldn’t believe it.

“Can I have a moment, Your Honor?” the judge nodded. Washington took long strides to get over to Angelica, “What the hell are you doing?”

Angelica leaned over to whisper something in Washington’s ear. Maria craned her neck to hear it, but couldn’t make out anything that she said. She sat back and grimaced.

“Hurry it along, Mr. Washington,” the judge said. Washington walked back to the witness.

“What was that? Something they taught you in torts?” Maria hissed in Angelica’s ear. She smiled a brittle smile.

“You should really pay attention. You might learn something.”

Washington kept his expression neutral, “Ms. Tanner, you testified that you saw a pill on my client’s desk on the day of the accident, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you said it was a yellow pill, similar to prosecutor Williams’ shirt?”

“Yes.”

The prosecutor in question looked down at his shirt as a mumbled went around the courtroom. Washington continued.

“Prosecutor Williams’ shirt is blue, Ms. Tanner,” her eyes widened, “Are you color-blind?”

She paused, “…Yes. But I know what I saw that morning-“

“I see. So whether the pill that you saw on my client’s desk was blue, like her anxiety medication she used to endure working under you, or yellow, like the aspirin used to poison Mr. Kaufman, is not something you can tell us?”

“I told you Gina was acting nervous-” Ms. Tanner protested.

“It’s a simple question,” Washington interrupted, “Is it possible that the pill that you saw on Gina’s desk was her anxiety medication?”

Ms. Tanner’s shoulders slumped, “I guess so.”

“Thank you for your candor,” Washington said, turning on his heel.

—————

Angelica was following close behind Washington was they zipped down the stairs.

“I saw she was wearing glasses in one of her Instagram photos, which got me wondering about her eyesight, so I called every optometrist covered under her insurance, found hers, then pretended to be a claims provider to get the receptionist to admit she has a condition called achromatopsia,” she handed Washington a sheet of paper. The duo stopped, Maria halting behind them, face red from something other than her peachy blush, “It causes color blindness. Step 1, discredit the witness.”

Washington looked impressed, “I might as well hand you the trophy right now, Ms. Schuyler,” Angelica preened, “But I won’t.”

Maria snorted.

“Not until I see how the rest of you step up your game,” Washington said, looking pointedly at each of them in turn. Maria bit her lip. Tonight is a night out.

—————

John Laurens sat on his bed, gazing at the television displaying the news on the Catherine ‘Kitty’ Livingston investigation. He looked away from the newscaster and lied down on his bed, covering his face with his hands.

“And in other news, the search continues for Catherine Livingston,” the newscaster droned on, “Ms. Livingston, a 21-year-old student at Virginia university, has not been seen since friends saw her leaving a fraternity party earlier this week..”

Laurens was a dead man.

—————

On the other side of the wall, Alexander Hamilton was encircled with papers, each printed out from various websites on Google. He picked one up, flitting through it, before picking up another. The process continued until most of the papers were on the ground. All useless.

Moving on to a stack specifically about mistaken pill identity, he read an article after article before picking up a picture of the aspirin used to poison Mr. Kaufman. Alexander went back to the article, reading through a paragraph again before grabbing a textbook. He flipped through the pages to get to the one page marked with a yellow sticky note.

“Oh my god,” he muttered.

He threw the book onto the ground, surprised when it made little more than a ‘thump’ and grabbed his green jacket and his bike. It wasn’t much of a bike ride to Washington’s house from Alexander’s apartment. He could report his findings now instead of waiting until tomorrow, when surely everyone would’ve found something useful. He couldn’t wait.

In retrospect, he probably should’ve brought the article, picture and book along, but in his hurry to Washington’s house, he forgot all about it. Oh well. If Washington didn’t believe him, he could pull up the sites on his computer.

The door to Mount Vernon, or Washington’s home, was unlocked. Huh. Alexander would’ve thought that a law professor would keep his door locked, but perhaps he was expecting someone of his students to come by and didn’t want to lock the door. Alexander stepped inside, gingerly closing the door behind him. Washington’s home was dimly illuminated, the only source of light being a wobbly lightbulb in the front entrance and his office. The door seemed to glow from within.

“Hello? Professor Washington?” Alexander called.

“Don’t even try,” came Washington’s muffled response. Alexander headed for the office, where his voice was coming from, and pulled open the door, which hadn’t really been closed.

Alexander Hamilton was scarred.

It wasn’t every day you walk into your professor’s office to see a boy straddling his waist, hands in tangled in his hair, kissing down his neck, but here Alexander was. The pair didn’t seem to notice that Alexander came in, and he was too scared to say anything.

Washington giggled, _giggled,_ and craned his neck farther back. The boy removed his lips and looked up, expression changing in lightning speed from sultry to murderous.

“Get the hell out!” he yelled, a French accent tainting his voice. Washington spun around. Alexander couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

When the door was slammed shut, he turned around and closed his eyes, trying to think of anything to clear his mind of what he just witnessed. It wasn’t just the fact that Alexander walked in on his law professor getting it on, but Washington was getting it on with someone who was definitely _not his wife._

He shook his head and ran down to the entryway, aiming to get out of the house asap. Heavy footsteps followed him.

“Hey!” Washington shouted. Alexander winced and turned around, holding his hands out in front of him.

“I’m so sorry. Th-The door was open-”

Washington scowled, “Oh, I’ll kill him.”

He pulled his phone out of the pocket in his pants, dialing a number. He looked back up at Alexander, “Why are you here?”

“It can wait,” Alexander said. Washington spoke into the phone.

“Jefferson, you didn’t lock up again,” he closed his phone, “Speak.”

“I-I-I came across this case, uh, Commonwealth v. McGinnis, which says we can move for a faster verdict if we think the prosecution’s evidence is, um, insufficient,” Alexander said. Washington looked unamused.

“What you’re suggesting is called a ‘directed verdict’, Mr. Hamilton. If we ask for it and get denied, all the public will hear is there’s enough evidence to convict,” he said. Alexander scratched behind his ear.

“But you discredited the first assistant today and-“

Washington’s was sullen, “You had an idea, I’m telling you it’s a bad on. Good night Alec.”

Alexander back away, Washington following him, “It’s Alex.”

Washington pulled open the door and shoved Alexander out, “Good night.”

—————

_The radio was playing Christmas music._

_James wasn’t even religious._

_“Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleight,” Maria sang off-key, tapping along on the steering wheel, “O’er the fields we go, laughing all the way!”_

_“Maria, please stop,” Angelica spit. Maria ignored her words, looking over the seat and at her, sitting in the back._

_“What fun it is to ride and sing a slaying song tonight!”_

_Besides, it was hard to concentrate on ‘Jingle Bells’ when he was siting next to a dead body rolled in a carpet and an Angelica Schuyler, who was getting more irritated every second Maria continued to sing, hands held firmly on the steering wheel._

_“Maria, stop,” Angelica growled, leaning forward. Maria giggled._

_“No. I like it, especially that it annoys you,” she hissed. James Madison looked out the window and at the small convince store behind the gas tanks. James wished that he was the one who went to get the supplies and not Alexander. He had murdered a person and now he had to cover up his tracks with these idiots._

_Alexander opened the passenger seat door and plopped down in the seat, holding a small plastic bag._

_“What’s all this for?” James asked and gestured to the bag. Alexander placed it on the ground between his feet._

_“I figured I should buy other stuff in case I’m on the surveillance video,” he explained. Maria laughed manically, her grip on the wheel tightening._

_“Why? We can just kill the store owner if we need to, right?!” The glint in her eyes would scare anyone, including James._

_“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,” Maria slowly looked back at the wheel, “Oh, what fun to kill someone and end up in jail…”_

_She swallowed and pulled the car out of the parking lot._

————

It was a sophisticated bar, something that Maria Reynolds didn’t usually frequent, one with expensive margaritas and glass chandeliers hanging over high-rise tables. ‘Bostonia’ was catered towards people like Angelica, people who came from money, married into money, the likes. Not someone like Maria. But if she had something going for her besides her looks, it was her determination. And she was determined to win that trophy. So, she went to the bar nearby the advertising agency, which all the employees went to after work, according to their Facebook statuses.

Maria picked up two drinks and spotted a girl, standing alone at a table next to a group of stereotypically beautiful women. The girl kept glancing at the group, then back at the table. She was pretty enough from the backside and Maria could see the ends of glasses poking out from behind her ears. She choose her.

“Two cherries,” she greeted, coming around the table and placing one drink in front of the girl. She blushed and looked back at the group of women next to them. They were all giggling as they watched the girl. Maria took the bait.

“So, you know, your co-workers seem to want a show. So just say the word and we can start making out,” Maria purred. The girl bit her lip.

“Ignore them,” she said, “I-I just don’t talk to girls at bars that often.”

Maria sipped her drink, “So, let me guess. You girls all work in the advertising agency upstairs?”

“Is it that obvious?” the girl said, playing with the folds of her blue dress. Maria smirked.

“I work in the bank across the street, and the only hot girls that ever come in here are from your agency,” she said. The girl frowned slightly. Maria thought she would’ve been pleased with the compliment. It wasn’t even a lie.

“Uh, I don’t work in the cool part of the company, if that’s what you’re thinking. Those girls do,” she gestured vaguely to the group of girls. Maria kept her gaze on the girl, “I’m in I.T.”

Maria raised an eyebrow, “I.T.? No, I think I.T.’S very cool.”

Finally, the girl smiled. Maria was able to move in to more… invasive questions.

“Did you know that secretary that tried to kill her boss with an aspirin?” she asked. The girl narrowed her eyes.

“The legal department warned us not to talk about that,” she responded. Maria feigned embarrassment.

“Oh. Right. Sorry I asked,” she acted like she was going to leave. The girl reached out an arm.

“Uh,okay, but no one can know I told you this,” she said. Maria turned around.

—————

Washington held the emails in his hands, looking skeptically at Maria.

“How’d you get this?”

—————

The girl, Eliza was her name, was stumbling over her words.

“I-I thought all you wanted were those emails,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as possible. She had never been touched like this, rough hands all over her body. Maria found the zipper on the back of her dress, yanking it down as quick as she could. Eliza expanded under her touch. She stumbled over to her bed, falling down with Maria on top of her.

“I did, but I want this too,” Maria said, undoing her own zipper. Lips found each other as Maria reached behind Eliza, expertly undoing his bra clasp. She has never been this exposed in front of another person, but Maria only smiled.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured. Eliza rolled her eyes. She was never beautiful.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

—————

Maria smirked, recalling the event.

“It wasn’t exactly legal, is the point,” she said. Washington was unfazed.

“Then we just have to get creative,” he said, “Theodosia!”

Maria ambled back to the rest of the crew, taking a seat next to Angelica. She winked at her, drinking in her disgusted expression. Madison was too busy googling Jefferson to notice that Maria was the one that handed Washington those emails and Burr and Alexander were having a whispered discussion. Court began.

“Mr. Bryant, you and your business partner, Mr. Kaufman, had a meeting in his office on the morning of the accident, correct?” Washington interrogated. Mr. Bryant kept his haughty demeanor.

“Yes, to discuss moving Gina to accounting,” he answered.

“So to avoid any possible sexual-harassment lawsuit?”

“That’s correct.”

Washington handed over the emails, stapled together, “Will you please read this email that you wrote to Mr. Kaufman?”

Mr. Bryant faltered. He cleared his throat, “‘Dear Arthur, consider this my official request that you step down as CEO. I’ve warned you about having sexual relations with employees in this company-“

Prosecutor Williams stood up, “Your honor, this email was not part of the discovery file.”

The judge looked down at Washington, “Is this true?”

“I thought it was,” Washington lied smoothly, “Although my associate is more familiar with the paperwork on this case. Theodosia?”

Maria slowly smiled, “Oh my god.”

Alexander looked over at her, “What?”

“I found the email in the files given to us by our client’s previous attorney, Your Honor,” Theodosia said. Burr was staring at her with a puppy dog expression, “I just assumed it was part of the discovery file.”

“It wasn’t, which means it was obviously obtained illegally,” Williams objected. The judge silenced him.

“Enough. Did you write this email, Mr. Bryant?” she asked. Mr. Bryant nodded, “Then I have to side with the defense here. The email’s admissible.”

“Your Honor!”

The judge grimaced, “I’ve made my decision, Mr. Williams.”

Washington cracked his knuckles, “Mr. Bryant, as stated in the email, you were angry at Mr. Kaufman for taking part in a sexual relationship with an employee.”

“I was frustrated, yes,” Mr. Bryant said.

“So frustrated that perhaps you swapped his blood-pressure pill for an aspirin in order to gain sole ownership of the company?” Washington proceeded. Williams slammed a hand on his desk.

“Objection!”

“Withdrawn.”

Washington walked back to his seat, “No further questions.”

—————

Washington and Theodosia flounced to the middle of a hallway, where Jefferson and the rest of the group were waiting.

“We did well today, no doubt due to Ms. Reynold’s hard work last night,” he tossed a smirk at Maria, “I’ll be at the Dean’s cocktail party if you find anything before tomorrow.”

Maria raised her chin at Angelica, who approached her.

“How’d you get that email?” Angelica asked, voice as sweet as a lolli. Burr folded his arms.

“Yeah, for real,” he asked. Maria chuckled.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” she said, brushing past the two of them. Angelica spun on her heel and followed Maria.

“What the hell does that mean?” she spit.

"Maybe your sister can tell you!" Maria called. Angelica froze. 

—————

James Madison hurried to the washroom, hands shoved in his pockets. He wasn’t good at public speaking in general, and when he tried to speak up during class, he got shot down by Professor Washington. Best to keep quiet and silently learn. Maybe one day, his opportunity would arrive.

_Maybe Jefferson would like me more that way._

He could faintly hear voices coming from the women’s bathroom next door and he slipped into a stall, pressing his ear against the wall.

 _“It’ll be all right,”_ he heard. James braced himself with his hands, yearning for more.

“ _Thank you, Agnes,”_ a woman said. Agnes. Agnes Kaufman?

_“George will take care of this, Gina. This’ll all be done soon.”_

James took a step back, away from the cool, tile wall. Heels clicked against the floor in the women’s bathroom and James heard the door open, then close. Open, then close. He left his stall, pausing to look at his reflection in the mirror, staring into his brown eyes as if it they would give him the answers he desired.

_What the hell just happened?_

—————

Even though Alexander’s apartment was in the rougher side of town, his complex was usually quiet. Today, he heard voices shouting upstairs, on the floor that he lived on. The people were obviously in his neighbors apartment, the neighbor with the piercings and freckles. He lifted his bike onto his shoulder and slowly ascended the steps, keeping his footsteps soft. It wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, and he knew, but he craved knowledge about this mysterious person that he lived next to.

When he was on the landing, the voices were clearer.

“It’s about the both of us! Don’t you get that?!”

“George, stop!” a voice pleaded. His neighbors voice.

“This happened, so get your head out of your ass!” the other voice shouted. Something shattered.

“Stop yelling!” his neighbor shrieked. A crash this time.

The door to the apartment banged open and the offense-side in the argument stormed out and past Alexander. He whipped around and was able to catch a glance of dirty-blonde hair and a filthy football uniform before the person was out of Alexander’s sight. Alexander turned back around to see his neighbor, crouched on the ground by an open box, trembling. His curls were lose around his face.

“Do you need help?” he asked, walking towards him. The neighbor looked up and Alexander could see the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He shook his head, fixing his eyes back on the ground.

“No. It’s fine,” he said in a clipped tone. Alexander crossed the threshold.

“It’s not a big deal-“ he started. The neighbor stood up, grabbing the door. Alexander backed away.

“Get out of my apartment!” he yelled and slammed the door, leaving a stunned Alexander in front of the green-painted door.

—————

Alexander only went to the party for the fun of it.

He also went because he overheard Angelica talking about it on the phone with her fiancé, and he refused to not go to an event that Angelica went to, or else he would never hear the end of it. Building up a reputation with his fellow students was just as important as building up a good relationship with his professors. Washington either tolerated him or hated him, probably the latter since he had walked in on him and another man having sex in his office.

His fellow law students were surrounding a woman leaning on a plush couch, spouting some shit about relaxing at law school. Alexander arrive at the scene just in time to hear Burr scoff.

“Okay, no offense m’am, but it appears that you’ve never went to law school. This place is a dogfight 24/7. And only the big dog,” he pointed at himself with his thumb, “gets the bone.”

Maria licked her teeth as the woman laughed.

“You’re on to me. I’m a psychology professor at Virginia college. But before you lose all respect for me, you should know that I work with the firm sometimes,” the woman gulped down her drink. She looked up at Alexander, “And you? You are?”

Alexander gulped.

“Alexander. He’s in your husband’s class, too,” Maria answered. The woman smiled.

“Ah. Martha,” she held out a hand, which Alexander took, “How’s it going so far? Has he gone full terrorist on you yet or no?”

It was unclear whether or not Martha was making a joke, so Alexander nervously laughed just to be safe. He ventured to a different topic.

“Your husband is?” he asked. Angelica angled towards him.

“Professor Washington,” she answered, taking a sip of champagne.

_It wasn’t every day you walk into your professor’s office to see a boy straddling his waist, hands in tangled in his hair, kissing down his neck, but here Alexander was._

Washington walked over to the group, holding two glasses of alcohol. Martha beamed.

“There he is!” she greeted. Washington smiled.

_“Get the hell out!”_

“Let me guess, your ears were burning?” Martha joked, nudging closer to Washington. He looked pointedly at Alexander.

“Should they be?” he asked.

“Don’t worry,” Martha continued, “I didn’t spill any secrets. Well, not yet, at least.”

Angelica laughed daintily along with the rest of the group. Martha raised a glass.

“To the first year!”

The ones with glasses drank, leaving Alexander to blankly stare at Washington, wondering what the hell was going on.

—————

_At this time of the night, most of the students had headed back to their dorms or apartments, only a small fraction of the amount that had originally been there still at the bonfire. It was perfect timing to carry a body through the eerie woods that few students ventured into._

_Maria steered the group, “Over here,” she whispered. James nearly tripped over a root hidden by rotting leaves. They walked on the top of the same hill they had all bickered on, only hours before. Quietly, they walked, occasionally stopping to set down the body and stretch their backs._

_A rustle in the trees. A girl laughing, a man shushing her._

_“Fuck,” Maria swore, “down the hill.”_

_They all but fell down the hill, almost dropping the body at the end. James pressed his back against the slope, panting. The noise of the plastic of the bag moving against each other was drowned out by the crunch of leaves. Angelica looked like she was going to faint, clutching a flashlight. Which was on._

_“Flashlight,” Alexander muttered. Angelica switched it off, head dropping to her chest. James curled in on himself, tucking himself into the fetal position._

_“Who hooks up in the middle of a forest,” Maria whispered, rubbing her hands together. Angelica snorted._

_“You, probably.”_

_“Now’s not the time-“ James tried to intervene. No one listened to him, as per usual. Alexander was a bit more convincing._

_“Now’s not the time,” he said. James rolled his eyes, “Shut up.”_

_The denim of his jeans itched James’ chin, irritating the delicate skin there. He tried to block out Maria and Angelica’s hushed argument. God, the two of them didn’t know how to get along, did they?_

_“Jen, cannot find out about this, okay?” the girl asked, words breathy._

_“Deal,” a man’s voice answered. Cue the sloppy sounds of kissing. James started to make a face, then stopped. Who was he to judge, after all he did with Jefferson the previous nights? Just thinking about Jefferson made him blush, and he buried himself deeper into his turtleneck. Bless those sweaters, with their high necks, able to hide James’ frequent embarrassments._

_“You look delectable in that sweater, Jamie.”_

_Jefferson’s purr rang in James’ head, muddying his thoughts. That voice was the one that moaned and groaned, gave James compliment after compliment. He was the perfect distraction from this huge mess James and the others dug themselves into. James frowned at his choice of words. No, Jefferson was not a distraction. He was so much more than just a-_

_Brrrrrrring-Brrrrrring_

_“What was that?” the girl asked. James searched through his pockets, finally grasping his phone and yanking it out. On the screen was Jefferson. Half-naked. He couldn’t press decline soon enough._

_James was going to kill him after this._

_“Hello?! Who’s there?!” the girl yelled. James shoved the phone back into his pocket, avoiding Angelica’s wide eyes._

_“Can we go?” the boy asked. The girl apparently agreed, if James could tell from their footsteps pounding away in the opposite direction. Angelica advanced on James, no longer caring if she made any noise._

_“Why is Jefferson calling you?” she snarled. James felt his cheeks heat up._

_“What?” he lied._

_“I saw your phone, Madison. What the hell’s going on?”_

_There was no chance in hell that James was going to tell them the truth._

 

_—————_

It was so much fun watching the students struggle, especially if it was the cute boy who wore his turtlenecks over his chin and sniffled during lectures.

“I only heard them talking for a second, I know, but well, it makes sense,” Madison said. Another sniffle, “A wife gets so tired of her husband cheating that she teams up with his mistress for revenge.”

Jefferson set down the manilla folder he was riffling through to look at the boy.

“Fine. Say you’re right,” he waltzed past Madison, smiling to himself when he heard him turn around to follow Jefferson, “What do you expect us to do about it? Put you on the stand so the jury definitely has enough evidence to convict Gina?”

Madison slowly shook his head, “No. No, obviously not. I-I just…”

His brown eyes widened at Jefferson’s smirk.

“You already knew,” he said. Jefferson snorted.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right,” Madison said, walking forward, “Because then you’d actually be admitting, out loud, to defending a guilty client. And who really has the time to deal with the moral repercussions of that?”

Jefferson watched Madison brush past him, going over to his leather bag hanging on a chair.

“Brown, right,” Madison turned around, “Or was it Smith? Berkeley?”

“Brown,” Madison confirmed, shouldering his bag, “What? You read my application or something?”

Jefferson leaned against the archway leading to Washington’s office, “We get a lot of you around here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Madison asked. Jefferson kept going.

“And you’re gay,” he guessed. Madison back away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“ Jefferson pushed off his perch.

“We get some closeted boys, ones who are too scared to come out to their parents and end up marrying some girl and are miserable for the rest of their days. Because they could never work up the courage to say anything to anyone,” Jefferson said. Madison stiffened.

“You’re a homophobic ass,” he spit, pushing past Jefferson. He caught a whiff of apple shampoo and he followed the boy with his eyes as he stormed out of the office.

Someone coughed, “Stop. Screwing. The students.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t get any of them, Theodosia,” Jefferson said. Theodosia sent him a glare and disappeared back into her office.

—————

Washington closed the door behind him, gently of course, looked at the surprised Alexander in front of him. Before Washington could say anything, Alexander had already started babbling.

“I’m not going to say anything. Honestly, the fact that I even saw that was my-“

“Stop,” Washington said. Alexander shut his mouth.

“I need to apologize,” Washington continued, advancing towards the small boy, “My wife and I have been talking about having a baby for a long time now. I hate making excuses, but it’s put a lot of pressure on us and our marriage.”

“But you were-“ Alexander said. Washington silenced him with a glare. He relaxed his face before continuing.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Thank you for keeping this between us.”

Alexander nodded without hesitation, “Of course.”

Washington placed his hands on the boys shoulders. From day one, when he started rambling about how he didn’t get accepted until two days before, he felt a sort of fatherly protection for him. He was just a little boy, naive and trusting, and the world of law was just going to shatter him. Washington ran his hands down Alexander’s arms, stopping at his elbows. There was a moment of silence, Alexander staring up at Washington shocked.

“I’ll just, uh, go,” Alexander mumbled, moving sideways out of Washington’s grip. He slipped out of the bathroom.

Washington stepped forward to the bathroom sink, gazing into his reflection. Who was he? Who had he become? Someone that cheats on his wife when things gets too difficult to manage?

_How could he do this to poor Marquis as well?_

A tear slipped down his cheek, one that he quickly wiped away. He needed to compose himself soon so he could go back to ‘enjoying’ himself at the party, an arm around his wife’s waist, conversing with fellow professors and attorneys.

Washington gave himself a quick once over, wiped his eyes, and exited that bathroom.

—————

A cluster of papers were spread out on the floor of Washington’s office, the news blaring on the tv in front of them. Theodosia paid more attention to the newscaster than the papers, while Jefferson shuffled through them. She could hardly look at him after what he said to Madison earlier today. Theodosia wasn’t the nicest person on the block, but she knew better then to insult the students without a reason. She was above that.

A tall, blonde man dressed in a football uniform, a squad of other almost identical-looking people around him, talked into a microphone.

“If Catherine were here, I know she’d want to thank everyone for their support,” he said. Theodosia rolled her eyes. The tv cut back to the newscaster.

“That was star virginia quarterback George Fredrick III speaking tonight at a vigil held for his girlfriend, Catherine Livingston.”

Theodosia suspected that George had something to do with the girls disappearance. It was always the boyfriend.

“Martha!” Jefferson greeted. Theodosia whirled around at the name, pleased to see Martha dressed in that little peach dress she loved so much. She greeted Martha with a kiss on the cheek.

“How was Yale?” Theodosia asked, walking over to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water. Her voice was higher than usual, “Let me guess, they loved you, right? Offered you the whole department?”

Jefferson cast Theodosia an amused smirk. Theodosia looked away.

“They’re just early talks,” Martha said. The woman was so humble, “No one’s moving anywhere yet.”

Washington greeted his wife with a kiss, “Hello, honey.”

Martha smiled, “All right. I’m heading to bed. You coming? I missed you.”

Theodosia was intensely focused on rubbing the glass cup with the sleeve of her blouse.

“I’ll be up soon,” Washington said. Martha pecked him one last time before leaving.

—————

The mattress was either getting increasingly more comfortable, or Alexander was just adjusting to how unforgiving it was.

Most likely the latter. This mattress probably would never give.

Tonight was a night of relaxation. The past few days were filled with worry over the stupid case, where Gina was obviously guilty, and how Washington thought of him. The party cleared it up, and Washington was in Alexander’s debt. Alexander was perfectly capable of ruining his reputation with an anonymous article written by his own pen. He didn’t know if Washington knew his skill, but he knew that he was too intelligent of a man to risk it.

Alexander rarely left himself alone with his thoughts. They tended to spiral out of control and build up these impossible ideas that worm their way into Alexander’s mind, giving him more reasons to be anxious. He realized early on that thoughts controlled him, he didn’t control his thoughts. The people back in St. Croix didn’t understand when he curled into the fetal position, barely able to breathe. Luckily, Alexander hadn’t experienced a panic attack in around a month.

It also didn’t help that it rained quite frequently in Virginia.

Moving there probably was a mistake, but Alexander wanted to succeed in life. Going to law school, and one so prestigious as Kings College, would help him _do_ something in his life. He wouldn’t be the embarrassment of St. Croix.

Glass clinked outside of Alexander’s door.

_Maybe the neighbor finally wants to introduce themself._

He set down his textbook and went to open it. A bottle of Jack Daniel’s sat on top of the blue welcome mat, his neighbor pulling keys out of his bag.

“Hey,” Alexander called. Neighbor turned around, caught in the act.

“Oh hey,” he said, voice hoarse, “Uh, that’s just to say sorry for tonight. And then the night before that. I stole it from the bar I work at, so don’t actually think I’m that nice.”

Alexander chuckled, “I’ve heard the music you listen to. I never thought you were nice.”

He bent over to pick up the bottle, reading the sticky note taped on the front. _Welcome to the neighborhood - John Laurens._

A notably normal name for such an abnormal person, who was currently shuffling through the keys on his holder.

“John Laurens,” he repeated the name out loud. John turned his head around, staring intently at Alexander.

“Should we open it, maybe?” John blinked, “I kind of had a weird night. Could use a drink. Or ten.”

John sighed, “I can’t tonight. Sorry”

Alexander shouldn’t have felt as disappointed as he did.

—————

Washington was murderous.

He was _humiliated_ in that courtroom and it wasn’t his fault for once. Gina twiddled her thumbs in her lap.

 _How dare she,_ he thought, _How dare she pretend that she had no part in this, that it was all Washington’s fault._ He slammed his hands down on his desk, startling Theodosia and Jefferson.

No one can argue against surveillance footage, unless the footage was edited and there was no evidence that it was. Washington ran a hand down his face. Never had he had such an incompetent client.

“You had one job!” he shouted, “To let us know what bodies we needed to bury! Texts, calls, anything we needed to destroy. And you did’t. So guess what?!”

Gina continued to stare at her lap.

“That wasn’t a damn rhetorical question! You go to jail, and I’m the shoddy lawyer who put you there!” Washington threw a file folder filled with possible evidence across his desk.

“I had a headache?” Gina said. Suggested 

“Stop lying!” Washington roared. He took a breathe, “Get out. I can’t think with you here.”

Gina pushed back her chair, grabbed her purse that was next to Jefferson, and stomped out of Washington’s office like a toddler. Theodosia stopped twirling her pen.

“She’s not wrong, Annalise. It’s aspirin. We all buy it,” she said. Washington ignored her.

“What about you, Frank? What slutty undergrad spread his legs and made you forget your job this time?” he snarled.

Jefferson snapped his head up, “Hey, I grilled Gina the minute we got this case! She chose not to tell me this because, well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Of course it was obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Jefferson sighed, “It won’t happen again. But don’t worry. We can fix this.”

“We?” Washington scoffed. He grabbed the folder he threw earlier, “No, I will fix this. You stay here, collect a paycheck.”

—————

“Laf, please,” Washington pleaded, “For me.”

“Why should I do this for you? What have you ever done for me?” Lafayette’s usual angelic voice was gruff over the phone. Washington sighed.

“It’ll help us win our case,” he said. Lafayette scoffed.

“I’ve helped you time and time again. Keep in mind that your work was the reason we met in the first place,” they said, “I don’t want to help you defend a guilty client!”

“She’s not guilty,” Washington lied.

“And how do you know? You’ve told me that people lie in the courtroom, that it’s not a matter of who’s correct or not, but who can tell the most convincing story! I don’t you want to be a part of that,” Lafayette said. Washington tapped his fingers on his desk, holding the phone against his ear by his shoulder.

“Please. I’ll owe you,” Washington tried.

“You already owe me,” Lafayette said.

Washington purred into the phone, “Come over tonight and I’ll make sure that you helping me will be worth it.”

Lafayette paused, “Fine.”

—————

They won the case because of Lafayette’s lie.

_“So you admit that the video could have been altered by the prosecution to incriminate my client?”_

_“…Yes.”_

Washington clapped his hands together, surveying his class. The students seemed much more at ease than they did during the first week of classes, something that Washington’s special announcement was going to change.

“Now it’s time to find out who will be going us,” he vaguely waved a hand at Jefferson and Theodosia, “in our firm. First, the standout in the class and the one you should all make it your mission to _destroy…_ Come get your prize, Mrs. Reynolds.”

Maria quickly stood up, tugging down her minuscule pencil skirt and calmly making her way to the front of the class. Washington didn’t miss her smug smile that she tossed to Angelica before claiming the trophy. There were stars in her eyes.

“The other ones joining us will be Aarong Burr.”

Burr jumped up, pumping a fist into the air.

“Angelica Schuyler.”

She sat back in her seat, “Oh thank god.”

“James Madison.”

He stopped staring at Jefferson to look at Washington, disbelief in his eyes.

“And because our workload has grown, I decided to hire one more of you. Alexander Hamilton.”

—————

Alexander didn’t belief that Washington would choose him to the in the firm because of that detective, Marquis de Lafayette. He wanted to be in the firm, desperately wanted to be there among these wealthy students, and not be let in because Washington was too scared that Alexander would expose him. So that’s why he chased Washington down after class.

“Professor Washington!” he shouted. Washington stopped.

“Mr. Hamilton,” he said, “How can I help you?”

Alexander cleared his throat, “So, that detective?”

“Is my boyfriend, yes.”

“I don’t want the job,” Alexander blurted, “Not if you picked me because of him-“

“Them.”

“Right, sorry, them. I don’t want to be a pity case, or something like that, because you don’t want me to go babble about this because I talk too much-“

“Is that why I picked you? Because I thought I picked you because your self-defense argument showed you are an innovative thinker that looks for the best in the client. But now that you exposed what you really think of yourself and that you really don’t believe you deserve this job-“

“That’s not what I said!”

“That’s exactly what you said, right before you accused me of illegal acts to win this case. We won because I did my _job._ You think carefully, Mr. Hamilton. Everything after this moment will not only determine your career but life. You can spend it in a corporate office drafting contracts and hitting on chubby paralegals before finally tying a rope around your neck, or you can join my firm and become someone you actually like. So decide. Do you want the job or not?”

Washington strode away, leaving Alexander alone with his precarious thoughts.

—————

Being the maintenance guy for a bunch of sororities wasn’t Nathaniel’s ideal job, but it paid the bills and he built up an endurance to their irritating giggles and bleach-blonde hair.

For once, the girl that opened the door was a brunette, holding a bowl of ramen, “Hello?”

“Someone called maintenance about low water pressure,” Nathaniel greeted. The girl pointed up with her index finger.

“I think the water thingy’s upstairs,” she said. Nathaniel gave her a curt nod and went to find the fire escape.

Starting the job, Nathaniel was afraid of heights, but that quickly diminished. The crisp air smacked against his face on the roof of the sorority house. Peering over the brick wall, he could see the thrum of the city beneath them. He sighed, wishing that he could afford a night out with his friends.

He climbed up the ladder to the water tank, heaving open the lid.

Catherine Livingston’s swollen face peered up at him, disfigured by the water. Nathaniel could do nothing but stare into her dead, icy blue eyes, too scared to scream or shout. This was the girl that was continually on the news, the one that supposedly went missing during a frat party a few weeks ago. Nathaniel didn’t pay attention to the details because some sorority girl didn’t matter to him. He would never see her.

Nathaniel was wrong.

—————

“George! Get out!” John yelled. George paid him no attention, grabbing his remote and turning on the tv.

“ _Breaking news live here in Virginia. Police are confirming a woman’s body was found inside the Kappa Kappa Theta House on Virginia College’s campus. Whether that woman is Catherine Livingston, long-term girlfriend to Virginia College’s football star, George Fredrick III, has not been confirmed.”_

John fell on his bed, staring at the tv with disbelief.

“What are we going to do?” George whispered.

—————

“ _She was last seen attending a party a campus fraternity. No witnesses saw her leave, and she was not in her room the next morning. The fact that she might not have been missing the whole time, but deceased in the water tank, might raise some questions.”_

Martha took a shot.

“What happened?”

The bed caved in when Washington sat down. Martha didn’t look at him.

“They, uh, found her. Dead,” she mumbled. Washington sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her lean into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“She was a great student,” Martha said.

The silence was deafening. Martha felt Washington’s heart beat against her cheek. Steady. Steady.

“I bet the boyfriend did it,” Washington finally spoke. Martha raised her head to look at him, not even surprised that he was already looking at her.

“I guess we’ll see,” Martha responded.

—————

_Angelica could do nothing but stand and watch her classmates unroll the carpet around the body that she helped murder. Murder! Angelica Schuyler, first, first to murder. The thought would’ve been funny if she hadn’t been so damn scared._

_When the carpet was lying flat on the earth, Maria and Madison threw sticks on the end, on top of the corpse. Smoke was still coming from the bonfire, filling Angelica’s nose. Alexander grabbed the two bottle of lighter fluid from the plastic bag._

_“Okay. Last chance,” he said after Maria and Madison made a considerably tall stick-pile, “Either we all agree, or we stop right now.”_

_“Just do it,” Maria said, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her coat._

_“Before the bonfire ends,” Madison added._

_“Angelica?” Alexander asked. Angelica swallowed._

_“It’s the only way to destroy the DNA,” she whispered. Alexander nodded._

_He squirted the fluid on the stick pile, drenching them. Madison pulled out the matches, handing them to Maria with shaking hands. She struck them and threw them onto the pile. All four of them watched, mesmerized, as the sticks ignited, illuminating the forest in a dusty red._

_Martha Washington’s lifeless eyes gazed unseeing at Angelica, forever reminding her of what she had done._


	2. It's All His Fault (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! it's been a while  
> I'm sorry

_Maria paced back and forth, the cheers from the bonfire distracting her. She could’ve been there, partying it up, maybe going home with a girl, but she was there waiting for Alexander._

_“He should be here by now,” Angelica whimpered._

_“It’s fine,” Madison said._

_“What if it’s not?” Angelica asked. Maria scowled._

_“Angelica,” she hissed._

_“What if they got caught or went to the police or he convinced him to pin it on us?” Angelica fantasized._

_“Alexander wouldn’t do that,” Madison tried to convince her._

_“No, but he would,” Angelica spit._

_Madison was curled in a ball on the ground, a lump of fabric, “Stop, okay? It’s going to be fine.”_

_“No, think about it,” Angelica pressed, “It’s all his fault!”_

_“It’s not his fault,” Madison sighed, “We’re all to blame.”_

_Angelica searched through her pocket, “I’m gonna call John.”_

_“Angelica!” Maria whispered._

_“No, I never agreed to this,” Angelica answered, unlocking her phone. Maria grabbed her wrist, pushing it down._

_“Because you had a meltdown! You could barely form a sentence. So shut up, sit down, and stop acting like a little bitch baby.”_

_“Do not tell me how to feel right now!”_

—————

( _Two and a Half Months Earlier)_

Washington stared down at the front page of the newspaper, Catherine’s pretty blonde head plastered as the headline. He had read through the article too many times to count, but his eyes were still transfixed on Catherine’s face. This was the girl Martha knew so well, who she had liked so much that she stayed after work to ‘tutor’ her.

The cold granite of the kitchen island contrasted greatly with the heat running through Washington’s veins from not knowing what Martha did with this girl, to this girl. If she killed this girl.

“Nothing new?” Martha greeted. Her presence didn’t startle Washington, who only flipped the page of the newspaper and smiled up at his wife.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Martha was neutral, “Makes sense. All the time her body was in the water tank probably destroyed any evidence.”

She crossed over to the kitchen counter and poured herself a coffee. Why would Martha care so much about the evidence being destroyed? Was she happy?

“I’m going to be home late,” Martha continued, “Dean Jovich wants me at the meeting about how to handle the grief counseling.”

“Really? Cause you knew her?” Washington asked, voice level.

“Because he wants someone there from the psych department,” Martha said. She gulped down her coffee and set the cup in the sink, “But who knows? Maybe that’s part of it, too.”

Washington pretended to be interested in an article about the rising oil prices, avoiding Martha’s stare. He heard her sigh and her heels clicking against the tile of the floor. There was no flutter of her heart when Martha pressed a kiss to his temples.

“I’ve got class,” she said against his skin. All Washington could do was nod.

—————

How Jefferson managed to get ahold of his number was a mystery that might never be solved.

James stared down at his phone, at the…compromising photo that Jefferson sent him in the middle of Criminal Law 100. He tried in vain to keep the heat from rising to his cheeks (or some place else) in class. If his skin wasn’t so dark, his cheeks would be a bring red. Luckily, Washington really knew how to kill a buzz.

“The question I’m asked most often as a defense attorney is whether I can tell if my clients innocent or guilty. And my answer is always the same,” he paused, allowing the class to pull out their notebooks or word documents, “I don’t care.”

James wasn’t all that astounded.

“And it’s not because I’m heartless, although that’s up for debate, but because my clients, like all of us here in this room, _lie._ And the makes them unknowable. Take Mr. Burr here,” everyone’s head swiveled toward Burr, eyes wide in shock, “Are you really who you say you are, or are there other sordid details that we’re missing? Criminal record, divorce, an actual skeleton in your closet?”

“I can assure you I’ve, uh, I’ve never hurt a fly,” Burr spluttered. Washington clicked his tongue.

“So you say,” he said, “Look around you. At the quiet boy you share notes with.”

James felt personally attacked, and he could feel people’s eyes sneak on him.

“The cute girl you have a crush on.”

Maria stiffened in her seat.

“The gunner who talks too much in class.”

Alexander looked down.

“Ask yourselves: do you know who anyone really is? Your instincts better be good, or you’ll find yourself choosing the wrong people to make a study group with, to sleep with, or even marry.”

Washington was twisting his wedding ring, one that was a little rusty around the edges. Like he didn’t take the time, or care enough, to polish it. James narrowed his eyes.

“Just ask Marjorie St. Vincent, heir to her family’s billion-dollar department-story fortune until she was stabbed sixteen times in her master bedroom of her Virginian mansion,” Washington was writing the information up on the board in a scrawl so messy that James had to glance at his neighbors notes to record all the information, “The alleged killer is her husband, of course, Max St. Vincent.”

—————

The St. Vincent’s household looked identical to James’ southern estate: grand, vast, and white. Looking the alleged killed up and down, he could see that Max St. Vincent was the perfect model of a southern gentleman. James vaguely paid attention to his speech, knowing that he might be able to copy off notes from Alexander later, and looked around at the furnishings. Animal heads adorned the high walls, their taxidermiedeyesstaring into James’ soul. He averted his eyes.

“I met Marjorie in Paris,” Max St. Vincent was saying, “I was shopping for my daughter Eloise’s fourth birthday. My wife had just passed. I needed something special. When Marjorie saw me struggling to speak to the owner in French, well, from the minute she opened her mouth to translate, I knew this was the woman for me. 20 years later, she’s still the only woman who knew how to make me happy.”

He stopped when the group came in front of a set of double doors, “Well, as much as anybody can be happy in an institution as barbaric as a marriage. Don’t you agree, Mr. Washington?”

Washington frowned, “Let’s keep moving. I asked Max to preserve the crime scene until after the trial was over. You never know what forensic clues you’ll find to help our case.”

Max pushed open the doors, ambling inside with ease, like the blood splattered over the walls wasn’t fazing him. James’ eyes darted from blood stained furniture to blood stained furniture. The white linen on the bed was ruined with a large stain of crimson on the left side, marring the otherwise perfectly sewed sheets. More animal heads lined the walls. An elegant chandler, hung over the dresser at the end of the bed, was the only piece of furniture left untainted.

“The room needed some color, anyway,” Max joked. He walked over to Alexander, who was frozen in his spot, staring at the crime scene, “You gonna puke?”

Alexander slowly shook his head.

“Look around, take photos, be the fresh eyes we need to help this case,” Washington ordered. Burr pulled out an iPad and began snapping photos. He was the only student who seemed to be comfortable in the room.

“Is it time?” Washington asked Max.

“I think it is,” he said, “I need a volunteer.”

 _For what?_ James thought. Max turned to Angelica and Maria.

“Ladies?” he asked. Angelica gulped.

“I’ll do it,” Maria said. Max smiled.

“Very well,” he said. He grabbed Maria by the shoulders, “You’re about as pretty as my wife was. Now on the bed”

Maria didn’t move, so Max shoved her down. She hit the mattress with a yelp.

“The forensic report claims that Marjorie was in the bed reading when I joined her with, uh, ah!” he pointed at Madison, “Your pen, dear, your pen.”

Madison was too frightened by the man to say no. Max caught the pen and hid it behind his back.

“Then I pretended to initiate sexual relations,” he tossed a leg over Maria, “And just as we were about to kiss, I struck.”

He brought the pen down on Maria’s shoulder, hard. Maria coughed.

“But missed, hitting the carotid artery, which was now squirting like a loose fire hose, hence the walls,” he gestured at the splatters, “So then I struck again, number two.”

The pen connected with Maria’s chest, “Number two. Followed by number three.”

Max kept pretending to stab Maria with the pen, targeting all over her torso. Madison felt the bile rising up in his throat, watching Maria struggle against Max’s hold on her upper arm. Angelica turned away.

Finally, when it seemed like he was never going to stop, Max pulled away.

“Or so, that’s the prosecution’s theory. Good luck proving that, huh?”

—————

“The murder book, give to us by the prosecution with all the evidence they’ve gathered in Max’s case,” Frank said. He handed the book over to Madison, “Go through it. Find the holes to help get our guy a ‘not guilty’.”

After what Max did to Maria that day, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to help him get a ‘not guilty’. He wasn’t sure if he murdered Marjorie or not. He wasn’t sure about anything.

Theodosia hurried over to Washington, “Max said there were three officers at the scene, but only two were on the report. We need the originals. I was thinking we send the puppy.”

Maria tried not to laugh at the nickname and pretended to be examining a file.

“Smart,” Washington said, “Alexander Hamilton. My office. Now.”

Alexander scurried over, head down. He did look like a puppy, now that Maria thought about it. They waited until the door was shut until they started to talk again.

“Okay, what’s his deal?” Maria whispered, “We all earned our spots here, but Puppy-“

“Don’t call him that,” Madison mumbled, still looking through the murder book.

Burr stretched in his chair, “Maybe he’s his secret baby, like he gave him up for adoption and he doesn’t even know. “

"Why would that even happen? Do you think Washington's that pathetic as to give special treatment to his supposed child?” Angelica asked, voice icy.

“What? No!” Burr said, “My point is, I think something’s going on between them. Otherwise, why would he be here?”

“Why are any of you here,” Maria turned around. Theodosia was leaning against the archway, looking throughly displeased, “That’s the question I’m still asking myself.”

—————

Alexander twiddled his thumbs in his life, willing his heart to slow down so he could relax in his wooden chair. He wasn’t going to get chucked out of the ‘Washington Five’. No, Washington didn’t spontaneously change his mind about having Alexander here. Everything was going to be okay.

“Jefferson says that you’re having second thoughts about the job,” Washington said, leaning against his desk, “And what Jefferson says, I usually agree with. So is he right? Are you regretting your decision to join us?”

_A tad._

“No,” he said, voice steady,“I’m happy to be here.”

“Good. Let’s give you more responsibility, then,” Washington said.

Wait.

Was this all set up? Did Washington question his integrity to the ‘Washington Five’ so he would have to take whatever responsibility they threw at him to prove his loyalty? Alexander sighed.

Washington smoothed his slacks and held out a sheet of paper, “Go to this police department and get the supplemental arrest report for Mr. St. Vincent. Don’t give your name or mine. You think you could handle that?”

_No._

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Now get out,” Washington said. Alexander walked out, hand shaking. What if the department refused to give him the papers? What if they knew that Washington set it up? Surely Washington would interrogate him after, to make sure Alexander didn’t fuck up, and Alexander couldn’t lie. Washington has told him that he knew when people were lying, and Alexander didn’t doubt that for a second.

Alexander avoided the stares of the rest of the group as he left the office. He would deal with them later, or never at all.

—————

“I just need the supplemental arrest report on Max St. Vincent, then I’ll be out,” Alexander said. The woman rolled her eyes, but yanked open a drawer in one of the file cabinets.

“Are you flipping kidding me?” she asked.

“What?”

“Of course you’re not,” she grumbled, “Lucinda teachers you this when you start working for her, right? That the rest of us only exist to serve the DA’s office?”

Alexander cocked his head, “DA’s office?”

The woman rummaged through the manilla folders, “It’s like that woman looks for ways to waste my time. You can tell that to Lucinda, okay?”

Alexander was in no position to disagree, “Sure.”

She handed him a folder bursting with papers, binder clipped together, before brushing past him. Alexander held the folder in his hands, smiling to himself. Success.

—————

Maybe he should just ignore the knocking on his door.

“I know you’re in there. The light’s on.”

_Dammit, John Laurens._

Alexander pushed aside his binder and crossed to the door, yanking it open. John Laurens was standing in from to him, carrying a shower caddy and dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Stop staring,” he commanded. Alexander dragged his attention back up to the mans face, “The addicts upstairs probably flushed their drugs down the toilet so there’s disgustingness coming out of my shower, can I use yours?”

_Say no to this, Alexander._

_“_ I need to shower before bed. I need to get off the beer and frat boy stench.”

_Lord show me how to say no to this._

Alexander opened the door wider and stepped aside, allowing John Laurens to come inside. He looked unimpressed.

“Sorry, but I think I liked Samuel’s set-up better,” he commented. Alexander choose to ignore it and shut the door.

It was hard to concentrate on Max St. Vincent’s case when John Laurens was _in his apartment going to take a shower._ He would probably be naked. Oh god. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, who was Samuel?”

John Laurens pulled out a loofah, “The freak that lived in your apartment before you. Funny, you actually remind me of him. Probably because you both have that same crazed look in your eyes.”

Silence fell on the two. John cleared his throat.

“I’m kidding. Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Alexander said, flopping down on his bed and pulling the binder towards him. He tried to not think that John fucking Laurens was in his bathroom, preparing to take a shower, brushing out his unruly curls with a brush. It was no big deal. Alexander brushed his hair with a similar brush. But John Laurens was something else, unlike anyone Alexander knew back in St. Croix.

“Where’d you come from?” John asked, setting the brush down by the sink. Alexander startled.

“What?”

“You’re obviously not from the US,” John said, “So, where’d you come from?”

“An island in the Caribbean,” Alexander said slowly.

“What island?” John pressed. Alexander pursed his lips.

“Does it really matter?” John opened his mouth, “And the answer is no. It’s unimportant, ‘cause there’s a million assignments I haven’t done.”

He heard a huff and a towel drop to the ground. Before he could stop himself, Alexander looked over to see John Laurens yanking open the shower curtain, backside completely exposed.

“Stop looking at me,” John called. Alexander snapped his gaze back to his binder, a flush threatening to spread across his cheeks.

—————

Angelica paced back and forth in Eliza’s apartment, head in her hands.

“There’s no reason that he would like him more than me!” she ranted, “I’m a better student, I come to class prepared, I didn’t punch the bursar!”

Eliza set down her wine glass, “He punched the bursar?”

“I think,” Angelica said, “He said something about getting in trouble with the bursar on the first day of class, you know, when he didn’t check his emails, so I talked to some more of the staff and one of them said that they got into a fight and someone punched someone.”

“That’s…interesting,” Eliza said, picking up her glass and taking a sip, “You should sit down.”

Angelica sighed and plopped down on the sofa next to her sister, “You’re the best.”

Eliza rubbed Angelica’s back with her free hand, “I know.”

“What’s Peggy doing these days? They holding up all right?” Angelica said.

“You know, you could always ask them. I’m sure they won’t mind,” Eliza teased. Angelica rolled her eyes.

“I wish I could, but I’m busy. Law student, remember?” She pointed to herself.

“How could I forget? You remind me daily,” Eliza examined her stubby nails, ones that she makes sure are always trimmed. Just in case Maria calls.

Angelica rolled her head from side to side, “What do you think I should do?”

“I dunno know,” Eliza muttered, “Prove yourself?”

“I have been proving myself! Eliza, please, try to help me here,” Angelica said.

“Well, uh, maybe find out more information about the case? Find more possible suspects? Discredit the witness?” Eliza suggested. She had heard Angelica mentioning something about Washington’s ‘five-star plan’ on how to get away with murder. Besides, how was she supposed to know what to do? She wasn’t a law student.

Angelica huffed, “Fine. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

“Don’t get mad at me-“ Angelica held up a hand and offered Eliza a small smile.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I an do this myself.”

Something in her tone told Eliza that she wasn’t all fine and dandy, but she let it slide. For now.

—————

When Alexander woke up the next morning, he was surprised to hear the sound of muffled yelling coming from John Laurens’s apartment next door.

“This is good!” he could hear John saying, “They would never suspect us!”

“How do you know? Huh? John, we knew her, okay?! I was her _boyfriend._ We would be obvious suspects!” Alexander recognized George Fredrick’s voice.

“The police ruled it as homicide. Do you know who the they probably won’t expect to be the criminals? College students! We’ll be fine-“

“You don’t know that for sure-“

“All I’m saying is that we might not-“

Alexander pulled his pillow over his head, drowning out the rest of their conversation. No, it couldn’t be true. John Laurens didn’t kill Catherine Livingston and ‘King’ George Fredrick didn’t either. Everything would be all right.

John and George’s argument quickly died down, the door slamming closed as George, supposedly, stomped out like a rebellious teenager. Alexander rolled out of bed, landing in a pile of textbooks and notebooks. This case was challenging, but Alexander Hamilton was always up for a challenge. Except, maybe, this one, since he was 99% sure Washington was defending a guilty client-again. He shoved his moral compass to the back of his head and grabbed the arrest report he was supposed to give Washington.

As he left his apartment, report carefully placed inside his messenger bag and bike on his shoulder, he tossed a glance at John’s apartment, in case he came out. Nothing.

—————

It was the arrest report containing the murder weapon, which was not a hunting knife, which discredited the cop who claimed that he had found a hunting knife used as a murder weapon. Angelica smoothed down her skirt, rolling her shoulders back. Washington gathered the ‘Washington Five’, along with Theodosia and Jefferson, outside of the courtroom. He scanned the group with narrowed eyes.

“Mr. Hamilton,” he said, “You’ve been stepping up your game. I hope the rest of you will step up your game. Hamilton is currently in the lead for the trophy.”

Angelica didn’t miss the smug smile that appeared on Alexander’s face for a split second, and neither did Jefferson.

“Now that we’ve discredited the cop, we need to find another witness. Come back to me tomorrow with ideas. And please, Thomas, lock the damn door this time.”

Washington strode down the hall, Theodosia scurrying after him, arm full of manilla folders and papers paper-clipped together. Jefferson walked around the group, lingering a tad too long behind Madison. Angelica swore she saw Jefferson’s hand move somewhere unholy.

When the authorities disappeared around the corner, Burr moved closer to the rest of the group. He pointed an accusatory finger at Hamilton.

“Why is Washington having you do all of his work?” he said, jabbing his finger into Hamilton’s chest, “You haven’t done anything the rest of us have done!”

Madison moved to separate them, “Stop all of this! Where is this coming from?”

Burr spun around, his back to Hamilton. As he spoke, his flung his arms every which way.

“Do you know where he comes from? Some island in the Caribbean! And his mom? A hooker. Yeah, I did my research. And guess what, his dad left them! Either that or he got arrested or some shit like that. I didn’t bother to read too much into the arrest report, but he comes from nothing! He shouldn’t even _be_ here!”

Angelica bit her lip. She couldn’t bring herself to stop Burr’s tirade, even though it was completely unnecessary. Alexander was starting to shake behind Burr, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. It was obvious that a fight was going to break out, and Angelica took a step back just thinking about it. She wasn’t about to get involved in all of this and sully her reputation.

It was Maria who shoved Burr back, lipsticked lips pulled back in a snarl.

“You can shut the fuck up, Aaron, ‘cause there’s no way in hell that insulting Alex’s parentage would ever be okay. Back off,” she spit, face mere inches away from Burr’s. Angelica held her breath.

Aaron looked like Maria slapped him.

Maria opened her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted when Alexander barreled himself into Burr head-first. She yelped, stumbling back in her heels and into Madison. Angelica’s eyes darted between Madison and Maria, who were on the ground, and Alexander and Burr going at each other. Alexander punched Burr across the face, thumb inside his fist instead of outside. There were two groans of pain.

Madison grabbed at Alexander’s legs, trying to restrain him from punching Burr again.

“That man was never my father!” Alexander was yelling, “And don’t you dare talk about my mother!”

Angelica pressed herself to the wall, hand pressed over her mouth. Maria picked herself off the floor, ankles wobbling in her heels. She hobbled over to Angelica.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered. For once, Angelica agreed with her.

What surprised Angelica even more was that no security guards or anything were coming. She guessed that screaming matches happened often in court houses, and since only one meager punch was thrown, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Angelica had seen worse, though people might not suspect so just by looking at her.

Still on the ground, Madison wormed his way in between the two boys. He was a rather large man for being so shy. It was ironic, in a sense.

“Please, just, stop. Look, we’re in the middle of a damn _courthouse._ You could be arrested and all the work you’ve done for Washington and Company would mean nothing. No other law school will take you if you have an arrest record. So, do yourself a favor and walk away,” he pleaded. If looks could kill, Burr would be six-feet-under by the glare that Alexander gave him before turning on his heel and stalking away, rubbing his thumb in the process. Maria sighed.

“I need a drink,” she announced. Angelica couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scream at me on tumblr: @aleclightgod


	3. It's All His Fault (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another update!   
> (in which the plot thickens and some ships start to come together ;))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scream at me on tumblr: @aleclightgod

(PART TWO)

James Madison sighed, his expression pinched: brows drawn together, lips pursed, cheeks hollowed. He silently counted to ten in his mind, getting his emotions together before continuing his conversation.

“No, pa, I’m not seeing anyone now,” he said into his phone, the cool metal comforting against his hot skin, “And no, I would not be interested in pursuing a relationship with Dolley.”

 _“She’s good for you,”_ came his fathers gruff reply.

Since James was a junior in high school, his father was always harping at James to get a girlfriend, find someone who would be able to carry on the Madison name. Shit like that. James couldn’t bring himself to tell his father that no, he didn’t have a girlfriend, and no, he would never _have_ a girlfriend because he would much rather be intimate with a boy.

 _Particularly Thomas Jefferson,_ his brain chided in. He shooed the (highly inappropriate, he’s James’s teacher for God’s sake) thought to focus on the phone call.

“Dolley is a great woman, but I don’t think we would click together,” James said, careful to keep his voice level. His father sighed on the other line.

“Look, James, it was great catching up with you, but I need to go. Nelly has her graduation,” his father said.

“Tell her I said-“ the line went dead before James could finish his thought. He stared at his phone in brief denial. This was going to happen. This wasn’t a surprise.

Most phone calls with James Madison Sr. went like that: father would ask son how law school was, then ask, in great detail, about every aspect of James’s social life, then he would abruptly end the call without saying a real goodbye. James was used to it, even though he was told that he shouldn’t be used to it. It was fine.

“Daddy issues, huh?” a clear voice rang out from down the hall in the courthouse. James whipped around, eyes widening as he saw Thomas Jefferson walk towards him, heels of his dress shoes clicking against the tiled floor. He flashed James a knowing look.

“What do you mean?” James croaked, then silently cursed himself for sounding so unsure. Jefferson scoffed.

“I’ve had my fair share of unhealthy family relations. Who’s this Dolley girl?” he asked.

James was not in the mood to discuss Dolley anymore then he already had, “She’s the daughter of a family friend.”

“Oh?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow, “Is that why your parents want you to marry her?”

“How does any of this concern you?” James snapped. Jefferson continued walking, moving past James so he had to turn around to keep him in his line of vision.

“It doesn’t,” Jefferson said flippantly, “But this only proves my theory about you.”

“Which is?”

“That you’re just one of those rich, closeted boys who will eventually marry a girl and get a job in a stuffy business office to support the three children you’ll editable have together.”

Jefferson turned around and walked closer to James, who could smell the musk of cologne wafting off him. He gulped, refusing to look him in the eyes.

“But we can change that. You know why?”

James wasn’t sure if the question was intended to be rhetorical, but he couldn’t help but answer, “Why?”

“Because of this.”

James’s back hit the marble wall of the corridor and his startled gasp was abruptly silenced by Jefferson’s lips on his, arms encircling his waist.

—————

The apartment was quite, which was always a good thing. Maria always liked the quiet. Back at home, with her step-father being her step-father and an alcoholic mother who seemed to be arguing 24/7, it was never fully quiet.

It’s quiet uptown.

She checked the mail, only one thick advertisement from some company trying to get their product out, checked the voicemails, which were nonexistent, and made her bed. Her routine was more of a habit, from when she lived with her parents. Her father would come home at around six and inspect her room, and her mother was passed-out drunk in her own room to bother to do the housework. Not that Maria minded taking care of the things that needed to be done, but her child self always thought that it must be nice to have someone take care of _you._

Now a fully grown adult, Maria squared her shoulders. She doesn’t need to anyone in her life to take care of her. Her childhood was evidence that she was mature enough to handle herself.

As she was pouring herself a cup of coffee to help get through the night of ‘investigating’ for the Max St. Vincent trial, her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her slacks. She fished it out, and almost dropped the device when she read the caller id.

That one IT girl, Elise or something like that, was calling her. In retrospect, she should’ve put the girls _actual_ name in her phone instead of deeming her ‘Booty Call IT Girl’, but everyone makes mistakes. She pressed ‘accept’ and put the girl on speaker.

“Uh, hi? Maria?” the girl said.

“Yeah, it’s Maria. What do you need?” she asked. The girl hesitated.

“Are you free tonight?” she said, eventually. Maria was shocked. During their…endeavor, she was so submissive. Honestly, if someone had told Maria earlier that the IT girl would be the one to be the first to call, she wouldn’t have believed it.

“What did you have in mind?” Maria replied, keeping her voice lower. Sultry.

The girl coughed on the other end of the line, and Maria’s heart went out to her. When she started playing the field, it was always hard to call her casual hookups, and this girl seemed to be incredibly new, “I was thinking, like, a date?”

Maria hung up.

—————

Eloise St. Vincent sat in a chair, pale hands folded in her lap, eyes distrusting as they surveyed the room. Washington couldn’t care less if she was uncomfortable. This case was getting more and more impossible to win every day and he needed to win it. And win it fast.

Surveying his little exclusive group of law students, he can tell their getting antsy themselves. Maria keeps checking her phone every minute or so, biting her bottom lip when she does so. Alexander is tapping his foot and twirling his pen in his fingers. Madison’s gaze flickers between the floor and Jefferson, and when Washington looks over at his promiscuous TA, he’s staring at Madison with a rather soft expression. Burr looks like he’ll fall asleep at the drop of a coin, eyes glazed over as he tried to focus on his notebook. Angelica was the only one paying rapt attention to the case, which Washington appreciates and expects from the oldest Schuyler sister.

He crosses over the floor to where Theodosia stands, by his desk, and folds his arms underneath his chest.

“What was your relationship with Marjorie?” he asks. Eloise licked her lips.

“We weren’t that close,” she says, slowly, “I was not all that close to either of my parents.”

“Why was that?” Washington continued.

“I was focused on my studies. I wanted to get accepted into Stanford, so I spent my nights and such studying for exams, which didn’t allow me all that much time to go out with my parents.”

“I see,” Washington said, glancing back to make sure that Theodosia was writing all this down, “Did you like Marjorie?”

Eloise hesitated, “Again, I-I, um, I guess I did. She was nice.”

Jefferson licked his bottom lip, and judging from Madison’s panic-stricken face, it was geared to his _student_ rather than Eloise’s confession. Washington sent him a short glare before walking closer to Eloise.

“Don’t sound so uneasy on the stand, Ms. St. Vincent,” Washington said, “The jury will be inclined to not trust anything you say. Even if you weren’t particularly fond of the woman, act like you were. Understood?”

Eloise nodded curtly.

“Good. Next question.”

—————

The world was against the defense winning this trial.

At least, that’s how Jefferson felt as he stalked directly behind a furious Washington on his way to scream at a Mr. Max St. Vincent in the middle of a court house. To be fair, Max was in the wrong this time. He withheld information from his _attorneys._ Jefferson was not sure whether to be frightened for Max or to sit back with a bucket of popcorn and watch Washington roast their client.

Most likely the latter. He really felt no pity for Max.

When the prosecution cross-examined Eloise, she behaved perfectly. Her posture resembled how it was when Washington prepped her for the trial and her voice was steady. She responded smoothly when asked about her relationship with Marjorie. It was all going perfectly, until the attorney handed over arrest reports detailing the truth behind Eloise’s birth-mothers death.

She was murdered. And the weapon?

A hunting knife.

Washington dragged Max up by his collar, teeth bared, “If you lie again, you’ll no longer have an attorney. Do you understand me?”

Max St. Vincent’s mouth turned up in a lazy smile. Washington was livid.

“That was crucial information that I had to find out on the damn stand! I was humiliated! The jury is leaning towards the prosecution, and to be quite honest, so am I.”

He let go of Max’s collar and beckoned Jefferson to follow him. Jefferson cast one last look at Max St. Vincent’s neutral-maybe even amused- face before scurrying after Washington like a good TA.

—————

James Madison waited for Jefferson from around the corner, fumbling with the sleeves of his turtleneck. He saw Jefferson run after Washington, who was surely going to give Mr. St. Vincent a piece of his mind, and didn’t have the chance to talk to him directly after the trial. He hoped that Jefferson would be more understanding with the information he managed to deduce, instead of Washington, who would yell at him not to act smart.

James was pulled out of his thoughts by shoes clicking against the ground and his head shot up. Washington crossed the floor to talk to Theodosia, Jefferson following close behind, and James quickly grabbed the purple velvet sleeve of his suit jacket. Jefferson stumbled and yanked his arm out of James’s grasp. When he saw who had grabbed him, his mouth curled up into a seductive grin.

“Maddy,” he purred, “What can I do for you?”

The memory of their kiss was still fresh in James’s mind, the feel of Jefferson’s lips on his and his hands roughly gripping James’s hips. He felt his cheeks heat up as he thought about the moment, and he looked down at his shoes.

“I, uh, found some things that might be useful.”

“Such as?”

“He’s a hunter, correct?”

“Yes. We knew that when we started the case.”

“He’s a hunter,” James forced himself to make eye contact with Jefferson, to make his point seem more convincing, “He knows how to kill.”

Judging from Jefferson’s impressed smirk, James Madison did good.

———— —

Maria clutched a bouquet of red roses, ones that matched her dress, in one hand and a plastic bag full of Chinese takeout in the other. God, why was she even doing this? She owes Eliza nothing. Besides, wasn’t it, like, all Eliza’s fault? You don’t just call your go-to hookup and ask for a date!

So why was Maria at her apartment?

She squared her shoulders and pounded on the girl’s door. No response. Maria turned to leave, glaring at the roses that spent good money on, planning to eat the takeout in the comfort of her own apartment and watch Grey’s Anatomy or something until 12:00 P.M. The case was over with, and she had no idea when the next case would be, so Maria was going to take advantage of her trial-free night by treating herself.

The door swung open before Maria could make the full 180-degree rotation around, Eliza Schuyler clearing her throat. Maria slowly turned back around, suppressing a sigh. Eliza looked _pissed._

“What are you doing here?” she said, folding her arms underneath her chest. Maria thrust the flowers towards her.

“I wanted to, uh, apologize. For blowing you off, I guess.”

Eliza raised her eyebrows, the pissed-off expression leaving her pretty face, “You didn’t blow me off. You just hung up when I asked you out.”

“That’s why I waned to apologize,” Maria continued, “I brought dinner.”

“Seriously?” Eliza took a step back, “You think that you can just show up in a tight, little dress and a perfect smoky eye and you’ll have my on my knees for you like a little girl?”

Maria blinked, then regained her composure, “That was the idea.”

Eliza’s door was slammed in her face. Maria sighed and dropped the takeout on the ground in front of Eliza’s apartment threshold. She could order pizza or something.

A creak interrupted her thoughts and a dainty hand grabbed her by the front of her dress.

“Fine,” Eliza whispered in her ear, “But tonight, I do you.”

—————

_Careful to keep his back turned to the security camera and his hands out of his pockets as to not look too suspicious, Alexander Hamilton dialed the number he now knew my heart on a burner phone. He probably shouldn’t have bought so much shit that he didn’t need, but it was too late to turn back. Besides, the plastic bag loaded with various snacks along with lighter fluid probably made the cashier assume that he was going up to a campfire or something. It was a good plan._

_The coin he had tossed was heavy in his pocket. For such a small piece of metal, it held so much weight, at least to him. But Alexander didn’t regret lying about the side the coin landed on. It was for the best._

_“Hello? Are you there?” Alexander muttered into the phone. He licked his bottom lip and glanced back at the security camera, making sure they could see he was on the phone._

_“It’s being taken care of,” he reassured the person on the other line,”I promise. We’re going to protect you.”_

—————

The trial was over with and the defense won. Thanks to James Madison, who gave Washington the idea to prove that Max St. Vincent was not guilty because the murder of his second wife was clearly done by someone who wasn’t a skilled hunter, Washington was victorious once again. He would be out celebrating at the bar where the curly-haired boy usually worked, but he had something else on his mind.

The previous night, while Martha was in the shower, he checked Martha’s phone. Just to make sure she really had no correlation to Catherine Livingston. He didn’t go onto her social medias or her text messages, just her emails, and was unpleasantly surprised to find various emails from Ms. Livingston. Emails that ranged from strictly school-related messages about an assignment of project to some of a more personal matter.

When he checked the emails again the following morning, they were all gone. Which was why Washington was now walking down the Marquis de Lafayette’s unnecessarily long driveway, bundled in a coat in a state of stress and disarray.

Lafayette opened his door, rubbing his eyes, dressed only in a baggy undershirt and sweats. He sighed when he saw Washington’s dress shoes, but his expression became worried when he saw the anxious expression on his face.

“ _Mon amour,”_ he whispered, “What ever is the matter?”

“It’s Martha, Laf,” Washington croaked, “She and Catherine… they were close _.”_

Laf gently took Washington’s hand in a rare display of affection, “She was her teacher. It’s natural that they were close.”

“No,” Washington leaned forward, face inches away from Lafayette’s, “They were _close.”_

He could practically see the lightbulb going off in Lafayette’s brain, and he couldn’t help but let out a choked sob. Why was he feeling this way? For months, Washington had been seeing Lafayette in secret, so he shouldn’t be upset. It was hypocritical.

But why did Martha decide to cheat on him with a _student?_ Did she have something that Washington didn’t, besides the basic human anatomy differences? It was stupid for Washington to be so distraught by this discovery.

Washington grabbed Lafayette’s other hand and held it tight, “Check her alibi. Please, Laf. Do this for me.”

Strong arms wrapped around his torso and Washington feel into Lafayette’s house, burying his head in his shoulder. He allowed himself to be held by someone, just for a little while. Martha hadn’t embraced Washington this lovingly in such a long, long time, even though they were talking about having a baby together. Perhaps that was why Martha decided to have an affair with Catherine: it was a change, an escape from her marriage that wasn’t going too swimmingly.

“It’ll be all right,” Lafayette cooed, rubbing Washington’s back. It was now that he realized he was actually crying into Lafayette’s shirt. It had been a while since he last allowed himself to cry.

The pair stood like that for a while, Lafayette trying to console his boyfriend while Washington relished in every touch, every word, every kiss.

—————

 

A commotion was happening on his apartment floor. Alexander could hear doors slamming, feet stomping, and a few yelps. He shouldered his bike and ran up the stairs as fast as he could with the bike and his incredibly heavy messenger bag.

“Get off me,” someone hissed. Alexander could recognize that voice anywhere.

Laurens.

Alexander backed against the wall, allowing three officers to race down the stairs, another trying to yank Laurens after him. His curly hair obscured his face, shoulders hunched forward, hands handcuffed behind his back. What was going on? Did something happen in the bar Laurens worked at or something?

Would Washington be willing to help if Laurens was in serious legal trouble?

“You are under arrest for the murder of Catherine Livingston.”

“I didn’t even know her!”

“We have reasons to think otherwise,” the officer tried pulling Laurens forward, but he seemed to be glued into place, “You’re history of drug abuse, for one.”

“John!” Alexander called before he could stop himself. John looked up, eyes wide with shock, and his brief hesitation was all the officer needed to forcefully push Laurens forward.

“Don’t tell them anything!” Alexander continued. Laurens stumbled down the stairs, never taking his eyes off Alexander, even when the officer barked at him to keep his head facing front.

—————

_Alexander knocked at room 203 of Rochambeau motel, glancing behind him to check if anyone followed him there. The door swung open, revealing Laurens’s gaunt face._

_“Fucking finally,” he whispered, grabbing Alexander by the arm and yanking him inside the motel room, “Don’t leave me like that ever again. Please.”_

_The ‘please’ breathed into his ear got to Alexander, and he wrapped his arms around John’s torso, pulling the taller man against him, “I promise I won’t leave you. I’m going to protect you.”_

_Laurens pulled back, looking down into Alexander’s face. His face wasn’t neutral, like it usually was, but scared. The boy was terrified. Alexander’s own face softened as he stared into John Laurens’s beautiful hazel eyes._

_“Thank you,” Laurens murmured, placing his hands on the sides of Alexander’s face. He brought his head up for a gentle kiss. Alexander moved his hands down to Laurens’s waist, careful to keep his touch soft and soothing. Tonight wasn’t a night to be rough._

_Laurens was the one to pull away first, leaning his forehead against Alexander’s, “We have to leave.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Me too.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> scream at me on tumblr: @aleclightgod


End file.
